


Ace in Hand

by HDea



Series: Ace in Hand [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Death via Drift, Drug Use, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Foster Care, Hermann's dad is an asshole, M/M, Multi, Other, Past Abuse, Slow Build, Will update tags as chapters come out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:23:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDea/pseuds/HDea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He did not know what it would feel like for something so sudden, so terrible, to happen that he would never again be sure if he was awake or trapped within a nightmare. </p><p>He simply did not know.</p><p>So when his research assistant burst into his office and tried to tell him in a nearly incoherent babble that a giant monster was attacking America, he did not believe him. </p><p>Of course not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried tagging this with what I expect in the first three parts. Just as a heads up: Newton doesn't show up until Chapter 2. I'm expecting ~13 chapters.
> 
> Also, I've only watched the movie. I'm randomly choosing what facts I want to include in my reality from the wiki. I have no problem breaking cannon if I have to, sooooooooooo yeah.
> 
> Not beta'd, because whatever.

It turns out that there is such a thing as a shared memory. A memory where you look back on a day and a time with a faraway look and remember where you were, and you can turn to the stranger next to you and they can do the same. There are days where something truly terrible happens and everyone forever remembers where they were, what they were doing, when it happened. 

He did not know that this phenomenon existed until he had visited America for a post-doc and heard the many stories of 9/11. He could not remember where he was or what he was doing when the towers fell, but an entire country had inhaled sharply and struggled to figure out whether to scream or cry, and in what direction. An entire country changed. They hardened. They reorganized. They joined together in shock. In sorrow. In anger.

The concept was fascinating, but that is exactly what it was: fascinating. Definitely not something that he related to, or expected to ever experience. He did not know what it would feel like for something so sudden, so terrible, to happen that he would never again be sure if he was awake or trapped within a nightmare. 

He simply did not know.

So when his research assistant burst into his office and tried to tell him in a nearly incoherent babble that a giant monster was attacking America, he did not believe him. 

Of course not. 

It took three different news feeds streaming on his computer screens and the sound of sobs from the American post-doc from the lab across from his office for the truth of what was happening to sink into his bones. Everything slowed down and his vision tunneled. The cold realization of what was happening wound around him, pinning him into his seat and holding his eyes open as the vision of a beast breaking through the golden gate bridge was playing on loop. He was shaking as he blinked his eyes and tried to reason himself out of the nightmare. 

This wasn't possible. Monsters were supposed to be imagined. They were supposed to stay under the bed. Behind the closet door. Outside your window. They weren't supposed to be large and terrifying and attacking the Californian coastline…

Another moment passed before he let out a strangled cry and fumbled for his cell phone.

\---

The news feeds were still talking over each other, but all he could hear was his blood rushing through his veins as his heart ran up his throat as he gripped his cell phone with both hands and pressed it hard against his ear. The phone took too long to connect and the ringing went on for a lifetime before a breathy “Hermann?” crackled on the other end of the line.

He wasn't aware that he was holding his breath until he heard his name, hesitant and thick with tears. He felt like his soul was escaping his body when he exhaled. 

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I’m in Boston-“

“At the conference” He finished. “Thank the lord.” The memory of short phone calls to try and scrape more data together and excited hand waving over Skype chats about being able to leave early to catch up with old friends in the area before the conference started that Monday. His hands shook so badly that his phone clattered against the plastic arm of his glasses.

“Hermann-“

“I don’t know what I would do you were back at Caltech.” The confession was out before he could try to censor himself. But why would he bother to? There was only one person in the world that he didn't feel like he needed to filter himself for, and they were on the other end of the line. 

“San Francisco is nowhere near LA.”

Hermann was trying not to hyperventilate and he didn't know if the canned geography response was helping anyone, but this was an old argument that they had without thinking. Just words with no real meaning anymore.

“I thought that there was only one city in California.”

“Not everywhere is like England. Ever consider going anywhere outside of London?”

“I’m not even in London.”

“You-“ He could hear heavy breathing again. “Where are you, Hermann? Are you safe? Oh god-“

“Oxford. I’m at Oxford.”

“Thank god you’re in London.”

“I’m IN Oxford. Oxford is located in Oxford. Have you forgotten that you once resided in this city?”

This was met by silence that was only measured by the heavy breaths on the other side of the line.

“Hermann… I think we might need to save the world.”

“Vanessa… I am loathe to admit that you may be right.”  
\---

Vanessa once told him that people were just like countries. Everyone was a little different with a strange and terrible history that they want to forget. But it is the terrible that has shaped them into what they currently are. Always something terrible, because it is only fear and sorrow and anger that will force you to become something new. Quiet comforts never incite action.

Something terrible will always drive change. Perturb the system and nudge it into a new metastable state. It was the only way to be sure that you are in the lowest energy state. To figure out what you were always going to become with time.

On August 15th, 2013, the world changed. Trespasser rampaged along the Californian coastline for six days. It took more firepower than anyone wanted to use to stop it. The dead couldn’t be counted. San Francisco fell to nuclear fire along with Trespasser, and neither could be approached again without becoming another victim of war.

And that is what this was the start of. War. We were perturbed. Forced into a new energy state, and we had no choice but to react. Not as a country, as 9/11 had done for the United States, but as Humans.

No one forgot what they were doing on August 15th, 2013. It was impossible to forget because an entire planet changed. As one, we came together. We hardened. We reorganized. We joined together in shock. In sorrow. In anger.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me introduce you to my head cannon for Vanessa...
> 
> No Beta, because nope.

August 30th, 2013

“Of course it’s raining.” Vanessa says it before she can stop herself. Who is she kidding, she can never stop herself. The statement is punctuated by the click of her heels hitting concrete as she steps out of the limo. 

The rain is more like a mist and it clings delicately to her curly hair and fogs up her glasses. Hermann follows her out and opens an umbrella for them to share. She curls her hand around his arm and gives him an unimpressed look over her dewy lenses. There isn’t a point in sharing an umbrella. They were both going to get wet anyway. But Hermann has always loved being proper, and rain means standing under umbrellas, so she stays under the umbrella with him.  
It’s awkward because her heels make her taller than Hermann, who is tall himself. She probably shouldn’t have worn heels today, but she needed to hear the click of her steps to know that she was moving. Needed the extra height to feel like she was in charge. She was a giant with them on, and that was good. Giant women over six feet tall could take care of themselves. Giant women could do anything. They could be respected, and take over the world, and attend their mother’s funeral without crying.

Her hand is shaking against Hermann’s arm and she tightens her grip like that won’t give her away. No more than the fingers of her other hand tapping one at a time against her thumb ever does. The tapping grounds her. Fingers and feet keeping a beat that she desperately needed her heart needs to keep time with as well.

She doesn’t bother to wipe down her glasses. There isn’t a point. They were going to get wet anyway.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“It’s a funeral. You mourn the dead, Vanessa.”

She throws him a fiery glare over steamed lenses and rolls her eyes. “I meant the formalities. I’ve never been to a British military funeral. Is it same as regular military funerals?” She grips Hermann’s arm tighter. He huffs at Vanessa’s tendency to refer to American things as “normal”. You would think that after almost ten years of knowing someone they would accept normal as normal.

“You will persevere. Are you giving a speech?”

“No. That’d be weird.” He cast a sideway glance her way. “I-I don’t think I knew her well enough to.” _And now I won’t be able to._

“It’s all right.” He moves his hand with the umbrella to pat her hand and manages to smoosh the underside of the umbrella into her curly hair and jab the handle into her fingers while the shaft of the umbrella hits her lightly on the side of the face. _Clumsy but caring. That’s Hermann._

“I know. I just- I just…I don’t know if she would want me here.” Her eyes are hot behind her glasses.

“Of course she would want you here.” The umbrella hits her in the face again.

\---

She lets go of Hermann’s arm when they get to the building and both salute, palms out, to the familiar man waiting for them.

“At ease.” His voice was so scratchy. “I’m not your commanding officer. Either of you.”

“I know. It just feels right, Smoke Stack.” The nickname rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. Funerals weren’t the place for nicknames, were they?

But Stacker just coughed, gripped his wrist behind his back and gave them a sad smile.

Tamsin walked up from behind them. Her umbrella was as red as her short hair and her eyes were so big and green. She was always tiny to Vanessa. Everyone was tiny to her, but Tamsin looked so much smaller than usual in her military uniform, clutching her purse and umbrella.

“Tammany Hall.” She couldn’t stop the stupid nicknames if she wanted to. Not when those sad eyes were looking at her. So she bent down and gave Tamsin the hug that she so desperately needed while failing at dodging another umbrella hitting her face. _Maybe I’m the clumsy one._

“That’s all of us.” Stacker announced after their hug ended. So they followed him inside.

\---

The funeral for Luna Pentecost was small. The military presence was larger than the family and friends there. Just Stacker Pentecost, Tamsin Sevier, Vanessa Clarke, and Hermann Gottlieb were there to throw poppies into Luna Pentecost’s empty grave.

Her final heroic hours were recounted. How she managed to wound Trespasser’s eye. How she dove back in again and again to hit hard. How she tried to fire a sidewinder missile down Trespasser’s throat. How a heroic knight died while slaying a dragon.

Tamsin cried freely, not being able to both hold back her sobs, she clenched her hands, bit her lips, and tried to be as quiet as possible while the eulogy was read. Her shoulders shook almost violently. 

Stacker was as tall and regal as ever, but his eyes were shot red and watery. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, but no one noticed.

Vanessa tapped her fingers and bit her lips until they bled. She must have been trying to hold her breath the entire time because she would occasionally take deep shuddering breaths. 

Hermann had his mouth pressed into a tight lipped frown and his eyebrows furrowed, like he was trying to swallow something terrible. His focused on some distant point behind the coffin draped in a union jack. 

They had all abandoned their umbrellas.

\---

Once it was over, they make the ride to Stacker’s house in silence. There is too much to say, and this wasn’t the place for it. Not when the sound of the rain and the road was so soothing.

Unfortunately, the Pentecost household was not warm and inviting. It looked like it had just been purchased and no one had moved in yet. That was probably the case since Stacker moved wherever the military wanted him and he didn’t have time to make his house into a home. They all awkwardly piled coats into a closet and looked around like there was something to see other than boring brown showroom furniture that had never been used.

Tamsin broke the tension in the entryway. 

“I’m glad that the two of you could make it.” Tamsin hugged Vanessa and Herman – completely failing at avoiding to smear her mascara streaked cheeks against their clothing.

“Where else would I be, Tamaki?” And it was true. There was nowhere else she could be.

“We are so proud of you. Luna was so proud. You know that she loved you, Vanessa. She always regretted giving you up.” And there it was again. Awkward as always.

“I know… that doesn’t change what I am.” _Oh no, wrong words wrong words._ “Who I am.” _Bad save, Vanessa._

“Vanessa…” _And there is Stacker trying to pick up the pieces._

“I know that all of you are trying to be kind and supportive, but I’m okay.” _They’re not buying it, Vanessa._ “I’m 24 years old. I think that you can stop apologizing to me. It’s fine.” _They all look so worried still._ “My father was a rapist and my mother was a hero, I know that.” _Nope, not better, keep going._ “I’m also smart enough to know that blood doesn’t mean a goddamn thing.” 

Vanessa squeezed Tamsin’s tiny hands and looked at each of them. “I can choose who I call family and I can choose who I take after. Now tell me… what are we going to do about the thing that killed my mother?”

And suddenly the awkwardness was gone, and in its place was focused determination.

It was the Pentecost way.

\---

The map was larger than the table and the corners sagged over the edges. The newness of the map made the paper want to fold up on its creases and hide away from them. Coffee cups stopped the retreat of Earth while leaving behind wet rings over Russia, Canada, the Indian Ocean, and off the coast of Chile. The air was thick with the smell of tea brewing and uncapped permanent markers.

The oceans were filled with post-it notes in four retina searing colors – yellow, orange, pink, green; each scrawled with names, locations, keywords. Jaffa cakes were dumped unceremoniously onto Africa.

“Are we missing anything?” Tamsin always cut the silence.

“Probably.” Hermann was accurate as always.

“Let’s see what we have.” Stacker was always their commander.

And Vanessa was the talker. “Tamsin and Stacker have British military intelligence – air and sea. I’ve got American weapons intelligence. Herman, German military command… Are you sure you can do that?”

“Of course. I can access my father’s files without being detected.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just ask?” 

“No, we burned that bridge years ago. You know that, Tamsin.” 

“Even if that were not true, we should not.” Hermann cut in. “He is being short listed as a UN adviser. If we contact him, he might not get chosen.”

“And if he gets green lit, then we’ll have UN intelligence.”

“Exactly.”

“Do any of you have pull with any other governments?”

“Not directly, Breakfast Bagel.” Stacker shot Vanessa a sour look, but she ignored it. It wasn’t even the dumbest nickname she had tried for him. “I have colleagues in robotics who work for other governments. They are probably about five years ahead of what they are publishing. US. Canada. Japan. Korea. Germany… Maybe China.” Vanessa tapped the locations on the map as she said them. She pursed her lips and stared at China. “I’m never sure whether they are exaggerating their findings or holding something back. They probably don’t even know what they have. I’m not sure how many of them are going to talk, but I bet that some of them are going to be looking for collaborators. Korea is always trying to buddy up with me, so I’ll start there.”

They scattered more post-its over the globe and argued about what sort of aid different countries would likely give if another Tresspasser emerged. What sort of action needed to be taken.

Stacker and Tamsin argued about the political aspects while Hermann and Vanessa argued about how to attack the beasts. Crossover discussions were pointless. There was no way to elbow your way into a discussion between two high ranking soldiers with security clearances or two scientific geniuses that are considered the top of their fields when they were in their element. 

By the time the Jaffa cakes had disappeared, Stacker’s dining room walls were covered with equations and free body diagrams. Most of the post-its had migrated to the floor and the oceans were covered with travel routes, international boundary lines across oceans and skies, and notes on every major city along an ocean coastline.

By 3am everyone was either too tired or too delirious from marker fumes to continue. Probably both. 

“Okay, gameplan. Gott-Stopper and I are already in for the conference in Seoul next year. We’ve gotta get this down by then.” Vanessa guestures wildly at the walls and Stacker rolls his eyes at the destruction caused to his wall. _Whatever, if he didn’t want it to get all ‘A Beautiful Mind’ up in here, he shouldn’t have given them markers._ “ What about you, Penthouse?”

“No, I’m not associated with the science divisions, but I’ve got enough pull to transfer once funding is secured.”

“You too, Tambourine?”

“I’m training pilots again starting Monday at 0700 hours, but I’m up for renewal or transfer. Tell me when and I’m yours.”

\---

“You’ve grown up a lot, Vanessa.” 

Vanessa smiled widely at Tamsin while brushing her teeth. Tamsin was always so kind and supportive and awkward as hell. It was hard seeing her look so tired and worn out and Vanessa only knew how to cheer her up by being goofy and weird, so she did that even though she was tired and worn out too.

“You’re one to talk, Tama-hawk.” She replied around her toothbrush and then spit into the sink. “I remember when you came crying to me because you didn’t know what to buy Moon-pie for her birthday.” 

Tamsin’s laugh was a bit strained, but it was still a laugh. “Yeah, but you started crying because you didn’t know what to buy her either.”

“I was crying because you were crying, Tamarind.”

“Uh huh, that’s what it was, Ace.” Tamsin said this as she poked the edge that was peeking out of Vanessa’s shirt of a playing card tattooed above her heart. 

They looked at the floor between them as they reminisced. Tamsin had just started dating Luna a few weeks before the two of them had cried in Vanessa’s bare bedroom over their inability to decide on a gift. Vanessa had moved in five months before. She had spent the first fourteen years of her life in foster care in the US, and she desperately wanted to buy her mother – _her mother! Her actual, real, bio-mom!_ – something nice for sending her to the nice school she could never have hoped to go to when she was back in Chicago. They sat there bawling until Stacker had shown up and became so uncharacteristically flustered that they ended up laughing at him until Luna came back from running errands.

“Do you think that…”

“She knew. She kept a photo of you in the cockpit with her. “

“Right next to yours?” _Don’t cry, Vanessa, don’t cry._

“And Stacker and Hermann. It was actually the photo from the barbecue last summer. Remember?”

“Pfffft, HA! The one with all the food?”

“Haha, yeah. That’s the one.”

“Remember how Herman moved everything inside so that the rain wouldn’t get to it, but he didn’t tell anyone, so Slacker thought we were robbed and drove to the grocery store and bought all of the ground beef that they had?” 

Tamsin genuinely laughed at the memory of all of that ground beef that Stacker had insisted they had to cook up and eat that day while Hermann alternated between staring mortified at the growing pile of half burnt hamburger patties and insisting that it was impossible for each of them to eat five pounds of beef apiece. “We had to eat hamburger the whole week you were visiting.”

“That’s when we started calling Hermann the Herburgler. He really hates it when I call him that.”

“You still do? How are you still alive?”

“Live fast, die nine times.”

The words were out of Vanessa’s mouth and there was no way to stop them. Just like there was no way for her to not think of her mother standing next to her fighter jet, the words ‘Live Fast, Die Nine Times” painted on the side with the image of a snarling panther. Just like how there was no way to stop herself from crying, no matter how tall she was or how quickly she tapped her fingers. 

So she cried. Bawled her eyes out. It was just like that day in her bedroom when she was fifteen. She cried because she didn’t know if she was doing the perfect thing for her mother, and Tamsin cried with her too because she felt the same way.

Through the tears Vanessa wimpered the same things over and over again to Tamsin: “It rained that day. It’s always raining whenever I see her. I’m so glad that it rained today. I don’t know what I would have done if it didn’t rain today.”

\---

Meanwhile, Hermann and Stacker were in the dining room looking over their notes while waiting for the girls to finish up in the bathroom. It was awkward like always.

“Vanessa was right earlier… when she said that you can choose your family.” Hermann said to cut the quiet. It came out loud and jarring and _awkward, awkward, awkward_ as Vanessa would say. “It’s an honor that all of you brought me in-“

“No need, Hermann.” Stacker cut him off before He could finish. “After we saw what happened with your family after you came out, we weren’t going to turn our backs on you. You’re family to Vanessa, so you’re ours now.”

It was true. Hermann considered himself more of a Pentecost now than a Gottlieb. He regretted having to abandon his relationship with his younger siblings, but the violence and hate that he had to endure from his father and his older brother had gone from barely tolerable to downright gruesome when they had found out about his first boyfriend when he turned seventeen. When Vanessa returned to their shared flat and saw his father beating him while his brother looked on, she did “what any sane person would do” as she would say.

She pulled that knife she always carried with her out and screamed bloody murder. It probably would have turned out fine if she was physically capable of harming anyone. Instead of things going the way she wanted, his brother Dietrich had unarmed her and made quick work of dislocating her shoulder. That scared his father more than the knife did, and with good reason. The Pentecost family was as thoroughbred as the Gottlieb family, and his father and brother were given some not particularly subtle “suggestions” about staying away from Hermann and Vanessa by some very large members of the Royal Marines and Royal Air Force.

“We’re a strange family.” Hermann mused as he finished off his tea.

“We’re not that strange. Just a group of gay soldiers trying to save the world…” Stacker casually said as he swept his hand out to the indecipherable map on the table, causing Hermann to smile and rolled his eyes in response. “It’s the Pentecost way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how in depth we are going to go with Vanessa and Hermann's backgrounds. I have a bunch of half written stuff, but here's the lowdown: Luna was date raped when she was super young and had Vanessa. Since she was so young, Vanessa was put up for adoption, but Luna's/Stacker's dad sent her to the US so that there was no possibility of Vanessa popping up again. When Papa Pentecost dies, Luna goes searching for Vanessa and brings her in. Vanessa turns out to be a science prodigy and they send her to the same private school that Hermann goes to. Hijinks ensue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newt sees Hermann and Vanessa for the first time, and his mind is blown.
> 
> Not sure if it was obvious before or not, but Hermann is walking just fine. No cane yet.

South Korea.  
September 15, 2014

 

This was the supposed to be the meeting of the greatest minds in the world, and it still felt like every other conference. Everyone was dressed in their best drab gray or black suits. Or khaki pants and a navy blazer -- like that was ever a good look. The second floor lobby was filled with groups of gray hairs complementing each other too loudly while introducing their protégés and wiggling their eyebrows knowingly. 

The world was ending and nothing was different.

His own adviser was playing this game somewhere else. Thankfully, Newt was accomplished enough that he didn't need to do the song and dance himself. Unfortunately, he knew from experience that he was accomplished enough that others wanted to approach him and he wasn’t patient enough to talk about anything other than science.

Thankfully, the conference was not just biology or chemistry, but themed around the Kaiju and everything to do with them. There were fewer people here that knew him. And it was early in the week. More bio-nerds were coming later in the week starting Wednesday. The schedule was clearly blocked out with engineering and hard sciences early in the week and “soft science” – god, he hated that term – late in the week.

The lobby was fairly sparse right now. Some standing tables near the registration booths were still empty, so Newt picked up his badge and tote full of schedules and fliers for companies hoping to cash in on whatever lab funding was going to be handed out this week, and leaned against one as he skimmed the program, starting on Friday so he could quickly verify his time slot, and then backtracking to Thursday to mark the interesting talks in his fields. A loopy circle and a star went next to Dr. Caitlin Lightcap’s talk – MIT alums had to stick together right? – and some other less notable talks were given random symbols that denoted his diminishing interest in the talks. 

Is this really all that Earth could pull out of their asses? They were going to have to hope that Mothra was going to come to aid them. He stuck his tongue out at his schedule and blew an unenthused raspberry at the other Friday abstracts and flipped back to the front of the program.

It was impossible to not overhear the talk around him. Military guys heavily hinting at big projects and dollar signs. University big wigs insisting on collaborating with each other, regardless of how the money falls. It was pretty sickening, but the schedule wasn’t interesting enough to quiet their voices in his head.

So when a clicking sound echoed across the room and voices went quiet, Newt looked up and adjusted his glasses to look at who arrived at the top of the escalator this time. And he nearly did a double take.

She had to be in the wrong place. First off, she was gorgeous. Nobody was that good looking. Anywhere. Ever. Nope. What? His head raced for a word that wasn’t “Nyuh”, because that wasn’t going to win him any games of scrabble. 

Words words words, use your words, Newt. Chocolate skin, smiling pink lips, curly hair with a goddamn bow in it, cute glasses, tall, slim, nyuh, what?

Second, she was dressed all wrong for the room she was in. Even Newt had broken down and worn black jeans, a white button up shirt, and a skinny tie. It wasn’t too professional, but it wasn’t far enough off that his advisor would cut his instrument time when he got back to the lab. She was wearing skinny jeans, purple heels, and what had to be the ugliest cardigan he had ever seen. It was black with misshapen looking multicolored applique stars sewn all over it. The thing was UGLY. She pulled it off in a ridiculous indie chic way, but only barely.

The sight was so absurd that Newt barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. Who was he kidding, he couldn’t stop himself if he tried.  
It didn’t matter anyway, everyone was staring at her. No matter how much of a breath of fresh air she was, Newt expected her to be thrown out immediately. Not actually thrown, more like politely asked to leave while security was called. It was a science conference after all.

Instead, she ignored the stares, strode past Newt—she was so tall! -- and over to registration.

"Anyoung haseyo." She spoke in halting Korean to the woman at registration. They had a short conversation that no one in the room apparently understood, including Newt. I mean, why bother learning another language if everyone was expected to know English anyway? The mystery ugly cardigan woman clearly relaxed into the conversation, though her language was still halting and she lapsed into pauses where she was clearly trying to remember her words and seemed to be charming the pants off the woman at registration. They joked about something and her laugh was loud and genuine and so foreign sounding in the room.

"Clarke. C-L-A-R-K-E." Cardigan stated clearly. The whole room seemed to inhale.

"THAT is Dr. Clarke?" "It can't be the same one." “I thought Clarke was a man.” “No, no, no, Clarke is definitely a woman.”

The two women ignored the rising murmur of the crowd as a badge and tote bag was handed over and shoved into her purse. Cardigan bowed slightly and was about to walk away, but the other woman stopped her and scribbled something on a piece of paper. They talked for a bit more before the paper was slipped into her pocket. She turned around, scanned the crowd and looked at the escalator and made it about halfway before the crowd seemed to descend on her.

One of the men in the room, a large military man from the US if Newt could guess from the uniform, stepped forward first and intercepted her. It was like watching lord of the rings. She was tall and lithe and beautiful, and he was short and wide and burly.

“Dr. Clarke?” His voice was too loud for the room, it seemed. She turned to him and tilted her head as she looked him over. 

“I'm Captain-“

“We’ve met.” 

“We have? Of course we have” His chest swelled with pride as he looked to those around him smugly. “I'm looking forward to your talk tomorrow.”

“What? That’s weird.” She scrunched her nose and shook her head as though she had just smelled something strange. Cute, cute, cute, cute, Newt chanted in his head as he leaned his elbows on the table to get into prime staring position. 

“Why would you say that? I have heard a lot about you. We would love to start collaborating with you-“

She cut him off with her laughter. It was too loud and came off as mocking in comparison to her laugh from earlier with the woman at registration.

“Oh god, are you serious?” Her eye roll seemed to take over her entire body and her tone was mocking something that should have been sympathetic. “You must not be very well connected if you think I’m going to start collaborating with a government that I’ve been working with for years.”

“Be nice, Vanessa.” A crisp British accent commanded.

The voice caused Cardigan to turn toward the escalators and a man silently walked up to her. Newt had to suck in another breath and stop his mind from spinning again. This man – Boy? He was young, but maybe the same age as Newt and he still didn’t feel grown up enough to call himself a man – was handsome. That was the word. Handsome. He had a sleek, polished, positively British look to him. He was as tall as Cardigan and wearing brown trousers and a cream colored button up shirt under a green sweater. Thin and regal and polished and still so different from everyone else here. Newt regretted his black jeans and wrinkled button up shirt.

“Hermann! I'm glad you're here. Have you met HeeJin?”

“HeeJin?”

“At registration.” She responded with an exaggerated flourish of her hand in Newt’s direction. No, not him, registration. That’s what she said.

And she simply brushed the Captain aside as she linked arms with British and they walked past Newt's table to get to registration, which allowed him to overhear their whispered conversation.

“Were you being rude?”  
“I like your shoes. Are they new?”  
“Must you really?”  
“I've never been able to resist complementing you.”  
“That is not what I was referring to.”  
“Doesn't make it less true, Humdinger.”

The next conversation with “HeeJin” started in Korean and switched to English. Newt felt strange eves dropping, but everyone was doing it at this point.

"This is my friend Hermann Gottlieb"  
“Colleague. We are at a conference, Dr. Clarke.”  
“Yes, that too. It’s spelled G-O-T-T-L-I-E-B.”

The room got louder again at this, but the duo did a better job of escaping down the escalator from the crowd this time. Cardigan brushed people off with few responses of “haha, nope.” and British glared at her uselessly.

 

A google search later he understood why Vanessa Clarke was practically mobbed. She had a Wikipedia page! He didn't even have a Wikipedia page. I mean, it was pretty sparse, and only referred to her as VP Clarke, but this was seriously not any fair. At least it was only a stub article. All that it did was refer to a number of companies that she helped found. Some of which didn't have a lot of information available other than key words that essentially spelled out "private military contractor” with too many words that didn’t include private, military, or contractor. There were plenty of mentions of her on different sites, but no pictures. She was essentially a recluse. A government hotshot recluse.

Hermann Gottlieb pulled more images and articles. He was apparently a well-known mathematician who collaborated with the international space station and other space related things- or so his research page said. Fancy pants British professor and fancy pants Oxford of all places. An entire page of awards won and at least a dozen jpegs of different funding organizations. Pictures of him shaking hands with people who were probably super important while looking smug. This guy was some kind of math super-star genius with a small research group of sour looking students that looked older than him.

The weirdest find was that both were commented as being child prodigies and were listed in Forbes Thirty under Thirty. Hell, Newt was listed too, how did he not notice them?

Probably because they were not listed under science and Medicine like Newt was. Dr. Hermann Gottlieb was listed under Tech for his collaborative work with private companies interested in space flight and exploration. Dr. Vanessa Clarke was listed under law and policy for advocating the use of robotics for disabling bombs, land mines, and as assistance to clearing rubble in areas torn apart by war – the only picture he was able to find of her was the fucking cover photo for her division, dressed to the nines in long sleeved navy gown and looking off into some weird distant future like all the other cover photos, printed next a frustratingly vague biography that said something about robots and disaster relief. Newt was listed in Science and Medicine for finding a way to increase compatibility between patients with organ failure and donors to reduce the likelihood of failed transplants. He didn’t get to be the cover photo for Science and Medicine.

Both their names had their ages listed. Gottlieb was the same age as he was. Clarke was a year younger.

He wanted to spend the next week obsessing and finding anything and everything about them, but his hotel room phone was ringing off the hook and when he finally answered, his adviser was on the other end of the line yelling at him about missing dinner. He was about to try cancelling when he realized that maybe she knew something.

He was going to be smooth about asking Dr. Richards about what he saw today. He was going to be so goddamn casual, honestly. Newt really did try to ask her casually about it, which was as usual, turned out to not casual at all.

“So, have you heard about Clarke-“

“Clarke and Gottlieb? So you’ve met them already?” Fucking harpy knows everything. “I heard that they made a scene earlier.”

“Yeah, I mean no. Not really. I saw them at registration and I heard some stuff. Have you met them?”

“No, no. But everyone has been talking about them for months.”

“They have?” Newt said around a mouthful of spaghetti. He didn’t know enough about Korean food to risk it.

“Yes. And you would know that if you ever left the lab. Or checked your email even.” Richards snarled and stabbed at her salad. “Everyone is talking about the prodigy talks.”

“Prodigy talks?”

“Yes. You're one of them, Newt.”

“Well, yeah, of course I am.” Newt snapped, and regretted immediately as he tried to sheepishly turn the conversation around to get more information. “So...”

“Clarke, Gottlieb, Lightcap, and Geisler. Everyone has those presentations circled.”

“Why am I last?”

“Because your presentation is last. They set it up so that one of you presents each day. Clarke on Tuesday, Gottlieb on Wednesday, Lightcap on Thursday, and you are on Friday. They gave each of you an hour.”

“I have an hour? Why didn't you tell me?!” He reached for his messenger bag and dug out his crumpled agenda.

“Because you should know that already!” Newt has only been working with her for six months and the woman already hated him. “And you always go over time anyway. You probably have three times as many slides as you need.”

“Okay okay, I'll check my email, okay? I only knew that Caitlin was going to be here.”

“Hopefully she'll mess up.” His adviser muttered as she stabbed her salad.

“That's cold.”

“She is the competition.”

“And what about Clarke and Gottlieb?”

“They aren't taking any of the soft science money.”

So they weren’t her problem. Whatever. Richards was a cold bitch. “What do you think they'll talk about?”

“No idea. Clarke does robotics and Gottlieb does math. They are second authors on each other's presentations, so everyone is speculating. None of Clarke's colleagues are talking, and Gottlieb dropped all of his students after the second attack and took leave. No one has seen him at all. It looks like the two of them have teamed up. Like everyone else has.”

“I don't need a team.”

“I don't care how smart you think you are. You can't save the world on your own. This is how the world works, Dr. Geiszler.”

The spaghetti wasn’t worth talking to Richards any longer, so he threw some money on the table and left – ignoring how his adviser was yelling after him that US dollars were no good in Korea.

 

Dr. Clarke was set to give her talk at 2pm, right after the plenary talks by the United Nations in the morning and an extended lunch. It was simultaneously the best and the worst presentation time slot. The best because it was after lunch, and the worst because it was the first real talk of the day and everyone was expecting something grand after the grim recap of what it took to take down the first four Kaiju.

She was a visual mismatch to what everyone was saying about her. She was cute and fashionable and clearly nervous as she nibbled on her lips and tapped her fingers. It was impossible to not notice her because she was, once again, the oddly dressed on in the room. Dark gray dress, navy tights, matching navy cardigan that was too large on her frame, silver heels and white flowers in her hair. Everyone was staring, so Newt didn’t feel bad about joining them as he sat down as close as he could to the front, managing to leap over everyone to get to a lone empty seat around the center of the third row.

The moderator began introducing her, but he wasn’t listening. Clarke had turned to look at the person she was standing next to in the front row. Her tense posture had suddenly relaxed and she put her hand into the pocket of her cardigan and casually drew it out, flipping out her middle finger. At. Gottlieb.

And now Newt’s entire focus was on Gottlieb. He was so handsome. That was the word. There weren’t any others. And he couldn’t figure out why he was so good looking either. He was clearly a smug and British, and he didn’t think that was something he was interested in. Okay, maybe not true, Sherlock did take over his life for a while. And what the hell, this Gottlieb character, how dare he be both smart and handsome when Newt could only be one of the two. You were only allowed to choose one! This was definitely not fair.

All of these thoughts raced through his mind and consumed him enough that he missed Clarke walking up to the podium and talking. Missed the first five minutes of what would turn out to be one of the most historic closed door talks of his lifetime, just to stare at the side of Dr. Hermann Gottlieb’s stupid, handsome, improbable face.

He was brought back by the sound of breaking glass and flickering lights in front of him. Gasps were heard throughout the audience.

“I have been lovingly calling this guy ‘Jaeger.’” Clarke’s voice said over the PA system as a video of a robot that reminded him mechas in animes picked up and shouldered a car. It was maybe two stories tall and could not have been possibly real, except this wasn’t a cartoon. Clarke was describing the balancing system and AI prediction programming of a fucking mecha! And she was doing it in a voice that was better suited for a teenage girl talking about her crush to her friends.

And then the mecha spun around and threw the car at a barn, neatly destroying it. Muffled cheers were heard on the recording. The screen changed to a new video and Newt just let his jaw hang for the entire hour. Hurried whispers were happening around him and it was the kind of white noise that narrowed his focus to a point as he watched the Jaeger walk over to the barn and crush down what was left of the barn.

The whole presentation was surreal and terrifying. It felt just like when he had first seen the footage of Trespasser crashing through the Golden Gate Bridge. It didn’t seem real to see something so awe inspiring and violent and clearly from the comic books that lined his book shelves. Plus, the mismatch between her visual appearance and the others in the conference was nothing in comparison to the mismatch between her cute image and smiling enthusiasm as she did live commentary on videos of giant robots, armed with fucking missiles, destroying the countryside. And holy shit, was that a laser cannon?! IS THIS EVEN REAL?!

Eventually the videos stopped and artistic mock-ups of several more mechas were put up along with a strategy of placing the machines in different locations as a final defense against the kaiju if they made land. She name dropped Gottlieb, which was expected, and urged others to hold their questions on her placement plans until they watched his talk the next day. She then emphasized a need to scale up the size of these machines and improve real-time fighting strategies. She was doing work with Dr. Lightcap on this? THEY WERE COLLEGUES?

Quiet little Caitlin who shared her notes with Newt while he was still taking neuroscience courses for his third PhD, was working with what? Newt’s head spun and he couldn’t focus on any of the questions posed to Clarke when the floor was open.

He was dazed through the next two talks before he realized that he couldn’t sit through any more talks that day. Nobody was going to top mechas. He wanted to talk with her about her designs. He wanted to hide from her and her excited shouts as she destroyed barns with fucking mechas. He wanted to tear apart her brain. He wanted a lot of things, but she was nowhere to be found. Others must have felt the same way he did, and everyone was keeping an eye out for.

He spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out how to email Caitlin and deleting every draft he wrote.

 

The next day, Newt didn’t believe that Hermann Gottlieb’s talk could match what he had seen already, but he felt the need to go and see what the hype was about.

He was proven wrong.

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb's talk was also at 2pm. Half an hour before his talk, he was standing at the podium, probably looking over his slides. Newt knew that because he was sitting in the front row and trying to simultaneously not stare at his stupid perfect face that he couldn’t figure out and trying to think of how to approach him without seeming like one of the other people trying to get his attention. He wasn’t sure if his ego could take one of those pointed glares. Or if his heart could handle hearing him growl “Later” to his face, like he had to everyone else. No, Newt didn’t need the five, almost six, PhD’s to know that he wouldn’t be able to handle that. Definitely not at the same time as that glare. Nope.

Fifteen minutes before his talk, Clarke showed up and tried to fuss with his hair. His attempts at batting her hands away as she touched his hair only caused the small cowlick at the back of his head to become a big cowlick. It was adorable, but short lived when she pulled out a hand mirror and he conceded to her fixing it. Newt’s fingers twitched around his notebook as he tried not to look. Tried not to feel alone in the audience.

Five minutes before his talk, Gottlieb’s jaw was clenched and his knuckles were whitening from the grip he had on a laser pointer. Occasionally he unclenched and tested the laser against his hand. Green.

And then it was time.

Newt didn’t hear any of the introductions again. His focus was on Gottlieb and Clarke again. This time she was sitting and he was standing. She poked his elbow and he glared down at her. She must have said something because he straightened his spine, looked down his nose, and sneered at her while saying something – what Newt would give to know what – to Clarke. She just laughed and leaned back in her chair.

Dr. Hermann Gottlieb got onto that stage and he did something that Dr. Vanessa Clarke was unable to do the previous day. He stunned them all into silence.

He has spent the past year studying data from a wide range of sources to find the origin of the Kaiju. Had fired all of his graduate students and gone underground to study satellite data, changes in tide, seismic readings, the changes in schools of fish, oceanic temperature changes, weather reports. Everything he could get his hands on.

His slides consisted of a map of the Pacific region on one side, and different data sets explained on the other half of the slide. For every new data set, different regions were highlighted. He showed the layering of the model that he was working on and it was narrowed down the placement of what he called the breach – where the kaiju were coming from.

Everyone held their breath as the highlighted area became smaller and smaller. The final area was still hundreds of miles wide, but in comparison to the entire pacific, it was tiny.  
He then zoomed in and placed a number of points in the area where he suggested placing monitoring devices that will give him the data needed to locate the breach, as well as give them an early alert to when an attack will happen. It could give them days, maybe even a week of notice before one hit land.

“The basis of what I need has already been prototyped by Dr. Clarke and the sensors tested. They just need to be manufactured and placed. Once the breach is located, we can focus on eradicating the threat.” His tone was fierce and final. Confident.

“On that front, I have been assisting Dr. Clarke with programming the Jaegers.” Familiar schematics were placed of a miniature Jaeger. Specific AI controls were covered. The map was brought up on screen again and he explained the placement of Jaegers, how to maximize their benefit to coastal regions. He listed some places as high priority and others as intermediate depending on funding. Hong Kong, Sydney, Los Angeles… 

When the floor opened for questions, Newt couldn’t hear anything. His everything was focused on the map displayed on the screen. Hermann Gottlieb knew where the kaiju were coming from. He just pointed at a map and more-or-less answered a question that the entire world has been asking for a year.

It didn’t matter that he was sitting in the front row this time. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to find Gottlieb after the map was taken off of the screen in front of him. There was nothing to do than go back to his hotel room and think about the fire in Hermann Gottlieb’s eyes when he pointed at that glowing spot in the ocean and said “There is where the beasts lie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously re-wrote a bunch of times from everyone's point of view before I decided to split this chapter in two and go with Newt's POV on this half. Lightcap and Newt's presentations happen in the next chapter, which should be up by the weekend, yaaaay.
> 
> For anyone that is wondering, conferences are usually blocked like this. One week long and people usually only show up for the days that they are interested in. Then if you manage to get the whole week off, you spend the rest of the time on the beach because it's usually held during the off season at a resort. The soft science people in this fic are probably getting drunk off of soju and trying not to think about the ocean.
> 
> I'm going to try really hard to be better about posting chapters even though I'm supposed to be working on my own PhD and not planning out all of Newt's PhDs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me introduce you to Caitlin Lightcap.
> 
> Also: Newt and Hermann actually meet.

Seoul, South Korea  
September 14, 2014

Four Kaiju had landed along coastal cities – San Francisco, Manila, Cabo, and Sydney – and everyone was desperate for a solution that didn't involve nuclear fallout. So here he was, in South Korea with the greatest living scientific minds, trying to save the world like he agreed to with Vanessa on K-Day.  
The intent of the conference was good, but the location was not the smartest choice. Wouldn’t it have made sense to choose a location further inland? Vanessa insisted that it was not possible because countries further inland did not seem to care that that the world as they knew it was being overrun by alien monsters rising from the depths of the Pacific Ocean. Many countries had closed themselves off after the second attack.

Thankfully, Britain and Germany were not included in those countries that had turned their backs on humanity. That meant that only two-thirds of his funding disappeared when he made the call and dismissed all of his graduate students after Luna’s funeral. It also didn’t hurt that they were arguably the leading members of their fields. Their names carried weight. Maybe some if the gray hairs would disagree, but no one could deny that people listened when they talked.

It also didn't hurt that they were already had security clearances. Hermann had his in with the international space station and whatever it was that entailed, and Vanessa was a vetted DOD employee that was consistently contracted for advanced weaponry and robotics. 

Outside of that they needed help, and Korea was their ticket, so to speak.

Their presentations were thankfully early in the week- being in the hard science and engineering fields. The latter part of the week was dedicated to soft science and medicine.

They were going to stay all week. Best get used to what was available. Herman's expertise was more widespread than Vanessa's. Everyone needed maths. Contrary to what Vanessa would say, not everyone needed fine motor control robotics and projectiles.

Hermann arrived in Korea on Sunday and spent the day in his hotel room alternating between editing slides for the thousandth time and wringing his hands as he tracked Vanessa’s flight. After she landed he stared at his cell phone and willed it to ring. After the third hour he called her and hung up when it went straight to voicemail. Another hour passed and he called Stacker.

“Hermann.” The gruff voice greeted.

“She is still in customs.” Hermann’s voice rushed out of him.

“Vanessa will make it out. She always does.”

“They shouldn’t be holding her this time! She was invited!” The hotel room was too small for him to pace, so he was stuck clenching his fists and spinning in agitated circles.

“What alias was she invited under?”

“Vanessa Clarke. Damn it all!”

“She’ll be out, they are probably checking her records. How long has it been?”

“Four hours.”

Stacker hissed on the other end of the line. “Let’s hope that she doesn’t get angry.”

Two hours later, Vanessa burst into the room through the door that joined their hotel rooms together, causing Herman to scream (“In a very manly way, Herman. Chest hair, everywhere, I promise.” Vanessa assured him). It took two boxes of Pepero to calm him down enough to listen to her recount how she managed to get out of customs. A story that Hermann wasn’t sure if he even wanted to believe since it involved sweet talking a guard who was actually working for the Korean version of the Mafia and getting the son of a Mafia boss to pull some strings to let her out.

“It’s fine! JiHoon is a gentleman. An actual one, not like in the Psy video.”

“You should have waited until they cleared everything up.”

“What I should have done is just spent the grand and booked travel under Vanessa Pentecost instead of getting my flight paid for. Clarke has too many flags in her file.” She shoved an entire packet of Pepero into her mouth and scattered crumbs all over the bedspread as she crunched down on the sticks. “Or maybe I should have said that I was travelling for pleasure, not business. Nobody likes it when I give them _the business._ ” Hermann threw the empty Pepero box at her when she waggled her eyebrows suggestively and spent the rest of the evening arguing about what room they were going to be sleeping in because Hermann was not going to sleep in a bed full of crumbs.

They both end up falling asleep covered in crumbs on his bed. Vanessa pressed against his back, clinging to the scraps of blanket that he managed not to wrap around himself, just like they used to do when they were younger.

\-----

Hermann wakes up to sun stabbing his eyes and his legs completely numb below the knees. His trousers had twisted around his legs in his sleep and they were completely asleep. The blanket was wrapped around him “like a burrito” and he couldn’t move.

“Vanessa?”

Nothing. Typical since Vanessa was usually early to wake and she had learned quickly that Hermann was not a morning person. He was so tired still from the jet lag, so he struggled to free his legs as the feeling of pins and needles overcame him and he fell back to sleep.

Hours later he wakes up to something tapping his forehead.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!”

“I will throw you out the window.” He grumbles. She is tapping a spoon on his forehead.

“I love you too, Hubble! I got you Juk. You have to eat it before it gets cold, or I’m gonna eat all ah the red bean off the top.”

“Would you be a dear and open the window for me? I need to throw you out of it.”

“You sure you want that? It’s a bit breezy, babe. ‘Specially since you DON’T HAVE A BLANKET!” She tries to heroically pull the blanket off of him, but it’s curled under him and she just manages to lose her footing on the wooden floors as she pulls and collapses on the floor with an anguished cry.

The effort of trying not to laugh at Vanessa manages to wake him up.

It’s the afternoon on Monday and they need to get registration out of the way. The day was filled with briefings that were aimed more toward active military and uncomfortable social events that neither of them were interested in, so neither one of them felt too terrible about skipping.

She gets excited and runs ahead of him to register while he irons his shirt. She’s wearing that sweater with the stars on it that she liked to wear in photos with Luna– “we’re the moon and the stars! GET IT?!”– and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her to change, even if no one was going to recognize her.

He’s proven wrong when he stops her from saying something rude to another conference goer. 

“Were you being rude?”  
“I like your shoes. Are they new?”  
"Must you really?”  
“I've never been able to resist complementing you.”  
“That is not what I was referring to.”  
“Doesn't make it less true, Humdinger.”

He lets it go because that is one of his favorite of all the stupid nicknames she has for him.

\-----

The next day he is sitting in the front row waiting for the moderator to finish listing all of Vanessa’s achievements so she can start unveiling their plan. She is tapping her fingers wildly while clenching her jaw, and it’s all wrong. So he taps his shoe against her heel to get her attention, looks her in the eye, and says their equivalent of good luck.

“Don’t fuck it up.”

She immediately loosens up and a sly smile spreads across her face. She pretends to pull her middle finger out of her cardigan pocket. “Here, this is the last fuck I’ve got to give. Hold on to it for me, will you?”

And they’re smiling because, by Jove, she’s got this. This is everything that Vanessa is. One hour of her showing that she has been building something greater than herself. That’s his best friend, his sister, up there beating up every bully on the planet with her brilliant mind, like she always did.

The next day it’s his turn. Nervous energy is eating at his stomach and making his hands shake. This is the largest audience that he has ever presented in front of by an order of magnitude at least. The conferences he usually attended were nowhere near as well attended. He checks to make sure that his laser pointer is working enough times that he belatedly wonders if he’s going to deplete the battery.

Vanessa pokes his elbow and his knee-jerk reaction is to snarl at her. She smirks, raises an eyebrow. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Her words strike the right amount of indignant rage in him that burns away all of his nerves. Causes his spine to straighten. To look at her with a sneer and declare “Impossible.” She laughs and leans back in her seat. “Prove it.”

So he does. He tells the entire world what he’s been doing all year. Points at the ocean with absolute confidence because numbers don’t lie.

And she’s in the front row smiling because, by Jove, he’s got this. This is everything that Hermann is. One hour of him showing what he has found with his numbers. She’s smiling because he’s her best friend, her brother, and he’s proving that zero is significant.

\-----

Having both of their presentations out of the way does not lessen the stress of the conference on them. The evening just brings new challenges.

Caitlin Lightcap arrives and promptly has a panic attack in her hotel room and tries to clean the bathtub in her room with the complementary shampoo. Vanessa spends the evening running around Seoul trying to find something that will “help”. She seems certain of whatever plan is hatching in her head, so Hermann brings Vanessa’s extra travel toothbrush – why she carries duplicates of everything still boggles his mind – and the shampoo from his bathroom and helps Caitlin scrub at pristine grout. 

The repetitive motion is surprisingly soothing and they talk about different ways to clean stains out of clothing. It makes up for the fact that they had only met one time before, under very similar circumstances, when Caitlin was going through the process of leaving DARPA. They had polished and sorted all of Vanessa’s mis-matched and incomplete sets of silverware while Vanessa pulled favors and filled out paper work for her to be honorably discharged from military service.

Caitlin was a brilliant girl, but she didn’t have the confidence in her intellect that Hermann and Vanessa did. When she felt helpless, she would panic and avoid her work with menial chores.

“Hey-loooo! I got JaJangMyeon!”

Vanessa crashed through the door, arms laden with bags. Hermann and Caitlin stopped scrubbing to come out and look at the mess Vanessa was making as she dumped bag after bag of snacks on the bed.

“Wash your hands, Cat Bug. I got you a thing.”

The thing ended up being a bag full of jewelry. The same silver ring in every size – “I didn't know for sure, so I bought them all just in case” -- and a large, flat, blue stone on a silver chain. Vanessa fussed with Caitlin until she had a silver ring on each pointer finger and the necklace hanging from her throat.

"Perfect! I knew the blue would look good with your eyes."

"I don't understand. How is this supposed to help me tomorrow?"

"Did you know that I tap my fingers a lot?” Vanessa ignored Caitlin as she dug through the pile rings she had purchased. “It's apparently something that I do when I'm not sure what I am doing, or I'm nervous, or just all the time I guess. And that's okay. I mean, whatever. I'm not sure if you have something like that, so I got you these." Vanessa slipped one of the extra rings on her pointer finger. "I used to play cards with a guy who had one of these rings. I could tell you how good his hand was based on how he played with it. See? The center part spins.” 

Vanessa flicked her thumb against the ring and the center band of the ring turned silently. Caitlin mimicked the motion on her own ring and fiddled with her hands until her shoulders relaxed and she seemed to calm down.

“Thank you, these are very nice. How much do I owe you for them?”

“Nothing, Cattan! It's early Christmas, okay? Now let me tell you about the necklace. It's secretly a worry stone – don’t tell anyone. There is an indent on the back side of it for your thumb. I met this guy at a shelter once that had one and he told me that rubbing one will lessen your worries until it's something you can manage."

"You know a lot of people."

"I like learning from people. It’s like friend Joe-Sue used to say – ‘Everyone knows something you don't, and the only way to find out is to ask.’"

Caitlin played with her new jewelry while food was set up on top of a towel on the bed. Vanessa talked about all of the food that they were eating (JaJangMyeon), the first time she had eaten it (as instant ramen called Chapaghetti), the people she shared it with (everyone who would listen and most people who didn’t), and random facts she had heard from people or read about on the internet. It was an almost entirely one sided conversation, but it seemed to calm them all down. It was 10pm by the time they were done eating and the food was cleared away.

"Do you want to practice your presentation?"

Caitlin tensed up and Vanessa held up one hand and rubbed her thumbs on the base of her index finger, the other tapped her chest. Caitlin fidgeted with her jewelry and nodded.

It took three tries to get through her presentation, but by 2am Caitlin was giving flashing them a pleased smile as they applauded. Her hand wrapped around the blue stone at her neck. Ten hours later, they repeated the presentation and she did it without panicking. Her thumbs flicking the rings around her fingers.

They spent the last hour in the auditorium. Hermann left to buy cans of milk coffee, only to return to Vanessa sitting in the front row and Caitlin talking to a short man in a leather jacket with brown hair on the other side of the stage.

“Who is that?”

“Dunno. They know each other and Caitlin is smiling, so whatever. I don't want to interrupt if it's a thing.”

“A thing?”

“You know about that guy from before?”

“You are going to have to be more specific.”

“Caitlin used to date a guy that was terrible and I hate him because he's stupid and I hate him. Anyway, not important. If this guy is a thing, I'm not getting in the way.”

Hermann’s only reply was to sigh into his drink. Vanessa had a tendency to attract attention that she was unwilling to reciprocate, so he couldn't blame her for staying away.

Soon enough, the moderator was introducing Caitlin and she started to speak. She was brilliant. Obviously still nervous, but propelled by that nervous energy instead of held back by it.

“The current technology that is publicly published is not capable of the fine processing needed to, for example, pick up a glass. You’d tell an arm to move forward and it won’t know to move forward and slightly left. Programming can be used to adjust for intent and external factors, but it is only possible with both significant articulation factors and computer processing capabilities. Even so, there are time delays – it can take hours to fold a sheet of paper in half with the straight edge precision that we could do with our own hands in seconds. However, if we use a human brain as the processor, then we can speed up the processing and reduce the computation power needed. Using neurological coupling in conjunction with AI correction to assist with cognitive processing, we can remotely control a wide range of drones. The intention is that instead of having a mechanical delay, pilots can fly air-crafts or cars or what-have-you by using what is essentially mind control.”

The implications of her work were staggering. Machines piloted by the human mind. He had already started working on codes for the AI assistance needed for Caitlin’s designs to work, so he knew how big of a breakthrough this was… but the hurried whispers of the audience opened his eyes to what he was really looking at. The implications of the research were much larger than Vanessa’s robot, Jaeger.

“Vanessa, this is all much bigger than we had realized-”

“Caitlin is bigger than anyone realizes.” Vanessa hissed. “That’s all her up there.”

“You know what I mean.” Hermann hissed back. “This is going to change everything.”

“Everything has already changed, Hermann.”

\-----

Afterwards, the crowd surged forward in the same way that it had after his own talk. While the presentation was one thing, defending her work to the crowd of people closing in on her after the talk was not something that she could handle. She shot them a nervous look and Vanessa immediately walked over and did what she did best in these situations.

"Caitlin! I have to pee." She yelled out and dragged the small girl behind her as she practically ran out the door. That girl was a master at embarrassing herself and running from rooms. 

This unfortunately left Hermann to the wolves and he spent the rest of the day until dinner trying to inch his way to the elevator that would take him back to his hotel room while explaining his research to every person who got in his way.

They ate large bowls of bibimbap on Caitlin’s hotel bed and Vanessa tells them about all of the strange foods she has eaten.

Everything that they've eaten has been thankfully mundane in comparison. Hermann was always considered a picky eater and Vanessa was always considerate enough to pick out foods that didn't have strange ingredients or flavors that were too unusual for him to eat. He had a catalogue of ethnic foods in his mind from a wide range of countries that were considered "safe". Vanessa always tried them first and always made a point of telling him what they were called just in case he wanted to eat them again, or more often than not, was stuck in a situation where he had to order food for himself in a strange restaurant.

When dessert was pulled out, little cakes in the shape of walnuts and filled with red bean paste (hodo kwaja), they started talking about the final day of presentations.

Apparently the man that Caitlin was talking to before her presentation was the fourth "Prodigy" at the conference, Dr. Geiszler. They had gone to MIT together and he was working on his sixth PhD. Vanessa made a face and declared that it was a waste to get so many degrees from the same place.

Vanessa had already decided that she didn't like him. They had both tried to send emails to him when the prodigy rumors started, but he had not responded to a single one. Caitlin insisted that he was very nice and that he just didn't check his email often.

"Hermann doesn't check his email often. This guy probably doesn't check his email at all. I sent him like a million messages."

"You sent him two emails."

"And that rounds up to a million."

"No, it does not."

"It could, depending on the calculation."

The rest of the night was spent with them bickering and Caitlin laughing as she packed for her flight back to the US in the morning.

\-----

The next morning Vanessa took Caitlin to the airport. She didn’t make it back in time for lunch and Hermann spent the hour wringing his hands until he got a text message from her.

Vanessa Pentecost: Traffic ducks. Taco does for me, Hermann.  
Hermann Gottlieb: Use your hands  
Vanessa Pentecost: New. You use curd dance.  
Hermann Gottlieb: I am using my hands  
Hermann Gottlieb: That is why my text messages make sense  
Vanessa Pentecost: Siri is my home goat.  
Hermann Gottlieb: Are you implying that your phone is a goat?  
Vanessa Pentecost: Yurt my supervisor.

Hermann rolled his eyes as he silenced his phone and took a seat for the final “prodigy talk”. This was the only one that he didn’t know what would happen. His emails to Dr. Geiszler went unanswered even though he had sent more than the two that Vanessa had. Unlike her, he was not offended. It was fine. People got busy and he did not enjoy checking his email either.

The moderator started the introduction, listing all of his doctorates – Chemistry, Biology, Medicine, Neuroscience, Biochemical Engineering, and a likely soon to be granted degree in Pharmacology. Hermann could imagine Vanessa muttering something about someone avoiding getting a real job. It was probably for the best that she was stuck in traffic.

Years later, Hermann would admit to Newt that it would not have mattered if Vanessa was there making snarky comments or not. As soon as Dr. Newton Geiszler walked on stage, he had all of Hermann’s attention.

He. Was. Magnificent. Bright and smiling and full of enthusiasm. Quick and sure. It was clear that he couldn’t speak quickly enough to catch up with the ideas he had, and he did not bother to water down the science. Instead, he punctuated each of his hurried thoughts with hand waving and exclamations. “Silicon based! This has only been theorized in Star Trek, but it’s what the kaiju are made of. Silicon!” “Nothing of this structure has been found before, it’s completely unique!” “This is it! This is the inhibitor we are looking for!”

All of Geiszler’s academic degrees appeared to be worth it because he was very close to a cure for kaiju blue poisoning. All that he was missing was a way to quickly and effectively administer the medicine in a dosage large enough to reverse the poisoning effects, but a small enough dosage to not cause adverse side effects.

Hermann was so focused on Geiszler that he failed to notice Vanessa walk up next to him when the talk ended. His eyes were still trained on him. She startled him when she jabbed her elbow into his arm and nearly fell over when her messenger bag shifted on her shoulder.

“There you are. How was the talk?”

“It was good.” Geiszler was smiling and waving his hands as he explained something to more somber eyed men in black suits. “Very good.”

“Yeah? Was it all about protein chains or something? Is that a thing? I have no idea what is going on.”

“Oh, yes. I had difficulties following the work as well.” 

His response must have been too slow, or she picked up on the fact that he wasn’t really listening to her, because Vanessa inched closer next to him and tried to follow where Hermann was looking.

“Oh. My. Gawd.” That snapped Hermann out of his trance.

“No. Vanessa, whatever foolish idea you-“

“No no no no no, Hermann! Doctor Gottlieb! You are going to tell me all about your findings.”

“We are not having this discussion, Doctor Clarke.”

“We are already having this discussion.”

“Not here.”

“Later?” He must have been making a face she liked because Vanessa grinned triumphantly. “Yesssssss. What’s his name? Wait, is that Geiszler?!”

“Vanessa.” Why did he bother growling at her? She was never intimidated by his bark.

“Well, at least tell me about his research. He has to be brilliant for you to be staring. He's got brown hair for gods sake, and omigahwd!”

“Shut. Up.”

“Okay okay, but he is walking towards us. Act cool. Act cool.”

“YOU are the one panicking.”

“If course I'M panicking! What if he talks to us? I didn't watch his talk. Did he talk about proteins? How do you kill a Kaiju with vitamins?”

“Vitamins are not the same thing as proteins.”

“Are you sure? And what are proteins even made of? Complex carbon and carbon and hydrogen and nitrogen and oxygen maybe? Does that mean that we are basically unrefined gasoline? Omigosh, the dinosaurs make so much sense now.”

“Do you even listen to yourself?”

“Using current technology, how many gallons of refined fuel would I make, you think? “

“You cannot turn yourself into gasoline.”

“Probably not, but some other combustible hydrocarbon. I mean, coal definitely, but we could probably do better. Energy density in fuels is typically rated by the number of hydrogen bonds broken. So we can probably estimate theoretical maximum power output...”

“Hey there, Gottlieb and Clarke, right?” Geiszer was standing right next to them. So of course….

“Do you know how much hydrogen is contained within the human body?” Vanessa couldn’t be derailed from her train of thought.

“What?”

“Preferably by weight percent, and not associated with liquid water.”

“Oh, well.-“ Geiszler seemed almost eager to answer her absurd question, but Vanessa was not finished.

“Though that could be converted via electrolysis, so I guess that I shouldn’t discount it in my estimation.”

“Please don't humor her, Doctor.” Maybe he could stop this nonsense.

“Oh no, please call me Newt. Only my mother calls me Doctor.”

“Oh god, Freck-haha, oh no.” Oh no, he needed to stop her.

“Doctor Clarke.”

“Sorry, sorry, I just remembered that... Um, I'm late for lunch. “

“It’s 3pm.” Geiszler responded as though Vanessa had completely lost her mind, which she might have if Hermann was being honest.

“Yes! I have to go. You stay here and talk. Her- Doctor Gottlieb was telling me about your talk and I'm sure he had a bunch of questions for you. Anyway, I've got to go. Food isn’t going to eat itself. I mean, that would be weird, amirite? Hahaha! Nice to meet you Doctor-“

“Newt, please.”

“Nope. THAT is NOT going to happen. Anyway, I'm gone.”

She turned to Hermann so that Dr. Geiszler couldn't see her face and mouthed an exaggerated ‘omigahwd’ at him before finishing her turn and saying "byeeee" while running out of the room.

That might have been one of the more uncomfortable escapes that Vanessa had ever made. He’ll have to re-evaluate his gauge for awkwardness because this situation was clearly more of a “10” than his previous.

After a prolonged silence that Hermann spent wondering if there was anything that could make him forget what had happened – Head injury? Alcohol? – Geiszler spoke up. “Why did she ask me how much hydrogen is in the human body? Do you two think that Kaiju blue is spread through hydrogen bonding?”

“Don't mind her. Dr. Clarke gets...” Green eyes. He has green eyes. “She was talking nonsense.”

Dr. Geiszler was staring at him with a faraway look, probably thinking about hydrogen and Kaiju blue now, but it looked like he was staring at Hermann and it was making him feel warm and flustered.

He understood why Vanessa had abandoned him, but wished that she hadn't. Especially not in that epic train wreck fashion that was so typical of her. Newton Geiszler was "his type" and Vanessa was terrified that she was going to "cock block" him accidentally. But they were at a conference and it didn't matter that everyone was treating it like the world was truly ending and this was their last chance to see if something between colleagues was possible, Hermann was not really that sort of man.

But Newton Geiszler was not technically his colleague...No. Hermann was not that sort of man. Not even if he was brilliant and covered in freckles and had bright green eyes and-

“So you had questions for me?”

And he was talking to Hermann.

“Yes, indeed. I'm not a biologist, so much of the talk was a bit beyond me, but your work on optimizing drug delivery methods based on zeta potentials was fascinating. Do you have time to discuss them?”

\-----

Hermann thinks that he fucked it up. 

No, correction, he is sure that he fucked it up. Every moment of the evening was going to be filed away and never looked at again if he could help it.

But, damn it all, Geiszler is brilliant! The academic world is too small for him to believe that he will never see him again. All that was left was for him to try and smother himself with the pillows on his bed if the embarrassment does not kill him first.

That was definitely the plan, which explains why Vanessa found him face down in his pillows when she burst into the room with a package held over her head while yelling: “MY BODY IS READY, TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

“Vanessa, would you be a dear and open the window so I may throw myself out of it.”

“Oh, Hermann…. Was it that bad?” He felt the bed dip as she settled in next to him.

“He is infuriating and perfect and I have ruined everything.”

“You're going to have to back up, because I think we missed a turn somewhere.”

“We went to dinner, and it is all his fault.”

“…I see.”

This caused Hermann to turn his head to look at her. “You do?”

“No! Of course not, you are as clear as mud. Here, have a cookie.” She poked his mouth with the sweet she had brought with her into his room.

“Biscuit.” He corrected automatically, allowing her to shove the biscuit into his mouth.

“Do you want to fight me on this? I will fight you. Now tell me what happened.”

“We argued.”

“So? We argue.”

“That is not the same, Vanessa.”

“How?”

“It may have gotten a tad bit... Loud.”

“So what?”

“We had to leave the restaurant.”

“Everyone’s gotta leave--Wait… Did the RESTAURANT make you leave?”

Hermann just groaned in response and took a cookie from the open package that Vanessa had placed next to him.

“Okay, let me get this straight. You went to dinner. Started talking about each other's work?” Hermann nodded at her inquiry. “And then you proceeded to scream at each other about genetic coding techniques in Python scripts or whatever until you were thrown out of a restaurant.”

“More or less.”

“Did either of you know what you were talking about?”

This caused Hermann to bolt upright and glare at her. “Is that an honest inquiry? Of course I know what I'm talking about! ... And he might have had some good points.” He admitted this while taking another biscuit.

“So basically the two of you had wild, obnoxiously loud intellectual intercourse in a public place.”

“Don't be vulgar!”

“Hermes, I would bet my right kidney that you wanted it to become vulgar, now tell me what happened after that. Did you strangle his neck or his cock.”

“VANESSA!”

“It is an honest question that deserves an honest answer!”

“He told me that I was wearing a ‘grandpa sweater.’ ”

“WHAT?! Your sweater vest is awesome. You look incredible!”

“That is what I said!” GASP! “This is all your doing!”

“Whoa, what?”

“He laughed at me.”

“And that’s my fault because…. OH MY GOD! You accidentally quoted Macklemore lyrics?! Are you shitting me?”

“This is all your fault!” The biscuits he was throwing at her were definitely not going to waste. It was a valiant cause.

“Stop that! How is it my fault that you look incredible?”

“You know exactly what I mean!”

“Don't be a shit. Tell me what happened next.”

“…I may have said some things in German.”

“Okaaaay?”

“And there is a real possibility that he speaks German.”

“Hold up, WHAT?! What did you say?” She spoke around the biscuit she was eating, spitting crumbs all over her dress.

“We are not having this conversation.”

“You're right about that, because this better turn into a first rate monologue.”

“NO. Definitely not! Go back to your room. I’m keeping the biscuits. Open the window on your way out.”

“It's not the end of the world... Okay, it is, but not because of this, HerpDerp. There are giant monsters coming out of the ocean, I'm on it. You're perfect and you deserve someone who sees that.” 

“We were thrown out of a restaurant.”

“So? I've been thrown out of restaurants. I've been thrown out of restaurants with you even!”

“You aren't Dr. Newton Geisler!”

“Hold up, his name is Newton? Like the figs?”

“Or Sir Issac Newton?”

“Yeah, that too.”

“You did get a degree in physics, did you not?”

“Accidentally! And it's just a bachelors, so it hardly counts. I have a bachelors in math too and I've already lost count of how many cookies I've eaten. “

He glanced down at the half empty package between them. “You've had an entire sleeve.”

“Don't judge me, Rain Man.” She shoved another biscuit into his mouth. “Do you feel better?”

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

He really was feeling better, but he was not going to tell her that. It was probably the biscuits. Biscuits make everything better.

“Everything is going to be fine, Humdinger. Either he loves being thrown out of restaurants with you -- which is a riot by the way -- or he doesn't and you don't have to see him ever again.”

“He is an academic, Vanessa!”

“And he's soft science, so fuck him. He's trying to kill a Kaiju with vitamins or some shit.”

“He isn't- what is it with you and vitamins?”

“Haha, vit-a-mins.” She always laughed at the correct way that Hermann pronounced words.

“You are a child.”

“Prodigy!” She replied in an obnoxious sing-song voice as she struck an equally obnoxious pose.

“I am going to throw you out the window. Give me the biscuits.”

\-----

The next morning they each got an email telling them that their projects were being funded. Vanessa announced this by jumping on his bed and screaming/singing “WE’RE THE BEST! AROUND! NOTHING’S EVER GONNA KEEP US DOWN!” repeatedly until he kicked her off the bed.

“I’m going to start sleeping with the window open.”

“WE’RE FUNDED, BITCHES!” She waved her phone in his face and he snatched it out of her hands to skim the email.

“We are being stationed in Alaska.”

“YES! Wait- NO! Fuck Alaska! Do they even have seasons there?”

Herman just ignored her and opted to finish reading the pdf on his computer while she actually took the time to read the email on her phone instead of jumping to conclusions based on the subject line.

“They are calling it the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, Vanessa”

Vanessa scrunched up her nose and looked at Hermann. "PPDC?"

“Yes, that is the abbreviation. Did you use both of your doctorates to figure that out or just the one?”

"Ha ha, you're so funny. I was just wondering if they thought this name through."

"What is wrong with the name? We are defending the Pan Pacific Region."

"Sure, that's fine, but I would have preferred an acronym that spelled something out. This just says Peep Dick"

"It does not say that."

"Well, how would you say it, Mister Mann?"

"P.P.D.C., like it was intended."

"Mmmmmm, nope. Definitely looks like Peep Dick to me."

"Don't be a child, You are not calling it that."

"I'm sorry, Hermann." She put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a sad, apologetic look. "But it's too late. We're both Peep Dick members now."

"No. We. Are. Not."

"We are too. You got the email."

"That is not what I meant and you know it!" Hermann could feel his face getting red and flustered, but Vanessa ignored it like she always did.

"It's Peep Dick! Now and forever at the winter garden theatre."

"No, you are not- get back here! This is not going to become _a thing_ , as you say. VANESSA!" She slams the door that joins their hotel room with a laugh and he scowls while turning back to his emails.

Halfway down the page is a message from “Newt Geiszler.” He closes the screen to his laptop and immediately regrets it because he needs to input all of his passwords to unlock it when opens it five seconds later. The action doesn’t change anything. The email is still there. It’s actually a series of emails as a reply to what Hermann had sent to him originally several months prior:

To: Dr. Hermann Gottlieb  
From: Newt Geiszler  
Subject: Re: Seoul Collaboration  
Time: 01:47 Seoul

Hey Herman… did you get an email from the PDD too?? They are sending samples to BOston!1 Do you still want to math me?  
-nEwt

Dr. Newton Geiszler  
Scientist Extraordinaire  
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

\-----

To: Dr. Hermann Gottlieb  
From: Newt Geiszler  
Subject: Re:Re: Seoul Collaboration  
Time: 01:48 Seoul

pLEASE DO NOT READ EMAIL!11111 gHOST WROTE IT OR SOMETHING

Dr. Newton Geiszler  
Scientist Extraordinaire  
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

\-----

To: Dr. Hermann Gottlieb  
From: Newt Geiszler  
Subject: Re:Re: Seoul Collaboration  
Time: 08:05 Seoul

Hermann,

Hey, so this is weird. I think that my email got hacked? Sorry about that.

If you’re still interested in running simulations or talking or anything let me know.

Cheers,

Dr. Newton Geiszler  
Scientist Extraordinaire  
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

\-----

Hermann scrubbed his hands over his face and read the email chain over and over until Vanessa entered his room again, causing him to slam his laptop closed. She immediately turned around and closed the door while saying “Whoops! I’ll give you ten.”

He went back to scrubbing his face with his hands while trying to decide which fate was worse: Telling Vanessa that he had received emails (plural!) from Newton and might not have ruined things entirely, or letting her believe that he was masturbating.

“Damn it all, I don’t even think that these windows open.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is managing Hermann with sweets a thing? The answer is VERY YES.  
> Does Hermann always threaten to throw people out of windows? With love, yes.
> 
> Also, I didn't edit this one because I was too excited about getting it out there. Sorry. I'll try to fix all of my mistakes tomorrow.
> 
> If anyone has any idea of how to manage/format the long conversations these stupid characters keep having in my head, let me know. Otherwise it's just huge blocks of text.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to build a Jaeger.

Anchorage, Alaska  
2014 and 2015

\-----

The best thing about being Vanessa Clarke was that she was technically self-employed and there was no one that could stop her from abandoning her original flight and heading straight to Anchorage. 

The worst thing about being Vanessa Clarke was that she had a reputation as a specialist in military robotics and weaponry. Security asset and security risk went hand-in-hand and she had been detained and deported enough times that she knew better than to use the Clarke name for anything other than work. Also, ain’t nobody got time to be kidnapped and be forced to turn themselves into Iron Man.

On the Monday after the conference was finished, she straightened her hair while she mulled over which passport to use.

Vanessa Clarke was obviously out. She could probably make it back to the US, but she would probably have to spend another million years in customs on both ends of the trip. It was for the best anyway. She had finished all of the puzzles in her Oekaki book when she was stuck in customs last time. Pulling all the favors she had with JiHoon was eventually going to cost her.

Vanessa Pentecost might not work either. Having to both remember to fake a British accent and explain why a Brit was going from Seoul to Anchorage would be asking a lot. Who in their right mind would leave the safety of London to travel to a coastal pacific city? Someone who was probably going to get detained at customs, that’s who.

Anna Ward had her own problems, but none of them were likely to stop her from leaving Korea and entering the US. The worst thing she had going for her was a sealed juvy record and a mark in her files saying that she was not allowed to operate a motor vehicle of any kind within the US. Neither of which are the sort of thing that they check for. 

No problem. Not really. Nope.

Vanessa just hated being Anna. That was really the only problem. Anna was everything that Vanessa hated about herself. It was a past that she kept wrapped in tin foil and stored next to whichever Vanessa she wasn’t being that day. Hidden away in the lining of her carry-on luggage next to the wheel well, just in case.

She unplugs her hair straightener and the US to Korea wall adaptor, looks at herself in the mirror and mutters “I’m a fucking idiot” before pulling out her butterfly knife to open the lining of her luggage. What was the point of getting upset about a fucking passport? It’s just a goddamn name on some shitty pieces of paper. She could pretend to be Anna as long as she had her knife. 

_Vanessa_ has a knife and nobody fucks around with a girl with a knife.

So she cuts the stitches in the lining of her luggage, switches the tin foil from her Anna passport and Illinois state ID to her Vanessa passport and California drivers license to block the RFID chip and sews the lining back into place.

A quick trip over to JiHoon’s gets her the fake passport stamp she needs to make it look like she had been in Korea for the past month and she’s on her way to the airport. 

As predicted, she makes it through security without any problems and takes a cab to her hotel to finish sleeping off the jet lag before she has to make some important calls and figure out how best to move everything from the lower 48 up to Alaska without Canada getting upset.

\-----

It took nearly a month to get everything set up. 

The land that she built Jaeger on was sold and a converted warehouse in Anchorage was bought. Her things were flown in and all of her belongings were promptly thrown on the floor to be sorted “later”. Hermann moved in soon after and yelled at her until he was satisfied with the amount of floor space he could see. Space was set aside for Stacker and Tamsin for when they got clearance to join the Jaeger Program as test pilots, which didn’t happen for another two months – barely in time for Christmas.

Tests were taken to get her Professional Engineering certification in Alaska – the US really needed to get their shit together so she didn’t have to do this in every state. Supplies were ordered and personnel hired. 

An hour under the needle of a tattoo gun was followed by a two week road trip through Canada which nearly caused her to go insane as she followed the caravan of semi-trucks carrying her entire laboratory and machine shop. How she survived driving twelve hour days behind the wheel at 40mph still boggles her mind. 

Then again, she didn’t remember much of Canada. That entire time was replaced with song lyrics to alternative songs from the 90s, the taste of poutine, and vague memories of her apprentice, Tim, trying to tell her that she needed to sleep.

Tim was a saint. Sunny would have yelled at her and they would probably have fought until they crashed the car into a ditch. Krunal would have slipped a sleeping pill into her food and driven both shifts. Allison would have abandoned her for one of the other vehicles in the caravan. Tim just let her take over the radio, put her feet up on the dash when it was his turn to drive, and sang along with her. A+++ apprentice. She would have to remember to write him an awesome letter of recommendation after he takes the PE exam. 

“To whom it may concern:

Tim Mosier is an excellent engineer, _obviously_. What you may not know is that he’ll make sure that you don’t kill yourself on a road trip through Canada. Also, I have met a lot of people who have made unfounded claims, but let me assure you when I say that his grandma’s recipes are _actually_ the best.

I am available to discuss pecan pies further if needed.

Prof. Dr. –Eur Ing. Vanessa P. Clarke –CEng.  
Professional Engineer and Consultant”

Yes, that should do it. Nobody says no to pie.

Vanessa was so caught up in thoughts of pie and the effect that it has on future employment prospects that she didn’t notice her other three apprentices approach where she was waiting for them at baggage claim.

“VANESSA!”

“AHRAGHBLAHRG!!” She yelled nonsense and collapsed onto the floor. “Jeezy Creezy, Allison! I am a delicate flower! Don’t sneak up on me.” Allison doubled over with laugher. Her long brown hair fell forward in loose waves over her face.

“You? Delicate?” Sunny asked with a raised eyebrow as Krunal helped her to her feet.

“I’ll see you at the flagpole after school.” Vanessa said sarcastically as she tried to get all the dust and floor grime off of her clothes.

“We were not sneaking, Mami.”

“Uh huh, suuuuure. I believe you Alley Cat. Lets go get all this shit dropped off at the hotel. We’re meeting Tim for lunch and then I wanna show you guys the lab.” 

Silly kids always sneaking up on her. Even Krunal did it, and he was generally too sweet to of a guy to cause anyone trouble.

Okay, so none of her apprentices were actually kids. With the exception of Allison, Vanessa was the youngest of the bunch and she was supposed to be their fearless leader.

Sunny Ma was the oldest of them at 35. He also managed to be the biggest brat out of all of them. They probably would have killed each other if it wasn’t for the hesitant respect that they had for each other. He was probably the best programmer that Vanessa had ever met. Nobody could churn out working code or debug a program as quickly as this tiny, angry, Asian man. 

Krunal Singh was next at 28. He was Vanessa’s first apprentice after she got her PE certification, and the only one of her apprentices that had a PhD. He quit his cushy executive job in India to come back and do signal processing for Jaeger. Aside from being the kindest, most adorable pushover in the world, he was also one of the only people that Vanessa knew that wasn’t completely terrified by signals and systems work.

Tim Mosier was her current apprentice. He was barely 26 and was essentially a giant golden retriever in human form and given a thick southern accent. Contrary to his simple, country ways, he was quickly shaping up to be the best person on the planet to do Finite Element Analysis and materials selection in her opinion. There were times where Vanessa wondered if he had the CRC Handbook memorized.

Finally there was Allison Rodriguez at 20. She was not technically her apprentice. Maybe honorary apprentice was a better term. Allison had to be the most charismatic person that Vanessa had ever met. She started working for Vanessa at 17, filling out purchase orders and doing odd jobs. Now she was in charge of negotiations with all of their major suppliers. She was not an academic like the rest of them, but she is quick as a whip. It also didn’t hurt that she grew up around cars and mechanics. The girl wasn’t afraid to pick up a wrench when they needed the extra hands.

This was her little engineering dooms-day group that she put together to build the prototype Jaeger, and there was no way in hell that it was going to be possible to finish designing and building the real thing without their help. Not in the time frame they had to work under.

\-----

The Jaeger program was being held on Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, which was in turn being converted to a “Shatterdome”. Whatever the fuck that means. Vanessa was pretty sure that they were just making up words because 1) it wasn’t dome shaped. Nothing was dome shaped. Where are the domes? And 2) what the fuck did “shatter” have to do with anything? Shatter is bad. Nothing was supposed to shatter. Shatter didn’t make sense. They were just pulling key words out of their asses. May as well call the place the “BoomRooms.” It would have been more accurate.

Not like anyone was going to hear her complain. It was barely a week after they received their computers that a Kaiju attacked. She couldn’t look and refused to listen to the news feeds. The only thing she could do was start living in her office and finish drafting a new Jaeger.

They all did, which was strange. Even before the war it was usually only Vanessa working late into the night drawing out designs and sculpting maquettes. Now they were all running on nervous energy. 

Hermann’s hair was going white from raking his chalk covered hands through his hair as he paced in front of his chalkboards. It was everywhere, clinging in smears on his clothes and wherever he rested his hands to think. The arms on chairs. Edges of tables. The handle of the electric kettle.

Sometimes she would look down at herself and wonder at the strange smears on her clothes before realizing that she was wearing one of his dirty sweaters. After the first month of work she had run out of clean clothes and motivation so she had started raiding Hermann, Stacker, and Tamsin’s closets instead of doing her laundry. Hermann’s clothes fit her best, but she sometimes accidentally put on dirty clothes because, seriously, who folds their dirty clothes before putting them in the laundry basket? She should talk to him about that, but then he might notice that she hasn’t done laundry in months.

Things were so desperate that quiet, soft spoken Krunal had snapped from the pressure they were putting themselves under and yelled at Sunny for being his usual dick-ish self. He was so mortified that it took an hour to talk him out of the bathroom.

The only one of them who kept regular hours was Allison. Her job consisted of making phone calls and filling out the paperwork necessary to get workers building the parts they needed, so there was no need for her to stay past business hours. For that reason, she was put in charge of bringing food to the office and sometimes forcing them to see the sun when it was obvious that the strain of work was breaking them.

But they were nervous. It was a waiting game. Will the attack be today? Next week? Never? It was equal parts flinching anticipation for the worst and a blossoming hope that there wouldn’t be another attack. It was impossible for them to finish before there was another attack, but they tried to anyway.

In July another Kaiju came and was taken out just before it made landfall. The alert system that Hermann had recommended worked like a charm and they were able to bomb the kaiju in the water. Some members of the UN insisted that the alert system was enough even though the they just barely managed to kill it. They insisted that Jaegers were costly and unnecessary even though the resulting tsunami killed as many as the Kaiju likely would have. Even though the Kaiju had destroyed a third of the sensing devices and it took an entire month to convince them that more needed to be installed.

They worked harder. They needed to prove them wrong. How was she supposed to keep everyone safe? 

Allison tried forcing them to see the sun daily. If not her, then Stacker and Tamsin would come in and drag her and Hermann out for food and tell them about the tests that they were doing with Caitlin. They had fallen into a routine. Stacker and Tamsin stopping by either for lunch or dinner and Allison sending them on random coffee errands while looking busy on the phone. Go home and sleep while code was running. Shake the chalk out of your clothes before getting dressed for work in the evenings.

In July the work was finished. They now just spent their time planning upgrades and sketching out other possible Jaeger designs for if the UN commissioned them to build more. Now it was just a waiting game while the building crews did their work.

The only people on the team that had needed to see the actual build was Allison and Krunal. They both actually had to work with the real thing instead of just models and simulations. Stacker and Tamsin had seen and even piloted components of it as it was being built to test and calibrate the Pons system. The rest of the team had slipped out to peek in the hangar they were holding the new Jaeger every now and again to see what they were working on.

Vanessa hadn’t seen it. This was the first project that she had ever worked on that she didn’t help machine out herself. The parts were too large and the timeline was too short.

And she was scared. What if it was all wrong? What if the simulations weren’t good enough? What if they machined the parts wrong? What if some idiot switched from metric to English units and fucked everything up?

So in August Vanessa was shaking and tapping her fingers when UN officials came to look at the finished build. She was clenching her jaw while she shook hands and tried to make nice. It was almost time. Soon, soon, SOON.

The whole thing was going to be a big affair. All the research teams, the lead technicians, the Rangers being trained to pilot Jaeger, the Marshall of the base, UN Officials. Everyone.

All attempts at avoiding the event didn’t stop her from hearing everyone speculate about what was going to happen. Instead what it did was make her unaware of who specifically was going to be there. That was why she was surprised when the Marshall introduced Lars Gottlieb to her.

“General Gottlieb, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to our lead engineer, Dr. Vanessa Clarke.”

_Holy shit, you're alive?_

“Of course, Miss Clarke. Why would you think otherwise?” General Gottlieb narrowed his eyes at her. _shit, shit, shit, I said that out loud? FUCK._

“Whoops, sorry. I guess fantasizing about your death constantly really doesn't make it true.”

“ **Excuse me?** ” _fuuuuuuuuuuck_

“Do the two of you know each other?” The Marshall cut in and looked at her. What did that look mean? Shit shit shit.

“We are acquainted, Marshal Johnston.” 

Before Vanessa could say something further to embarrass herself in front of the Marshall, Hermann cut in. “Excuse me, I need to borrow Dr. Clarke if you don’t mind.”

“Ah yes, Dr. Gottlieb! Have you met General Gottlieb? I’ve always wondered if the two of you were related somehow.” Ugh, worst person ever award goes to Marshall Johnston.

“No relation.” Hermann said as he glared at his father.

“Is that so?” 

“Quite. If you'll excuse us, the break is nearly over.” Hermann saluted the Marshall, ignored the General entirely, and Vanessa walked away on Hermann’s arm

“What is he doing here?” She whispered as they walked aimlessly around the room.

“He is a UN official now. You know that.”

“But why is he _here_?”

“He supports the Jaeger Program.”

That was a confusing enough statement that Vanessa was silent again for the rest of the break until they were gathered to walk over to see the Jaeger.

The walk was long and it involved going in what was essentially a huge circle to make it to the largest open hangar. It was simultaneously the longest and shortest walk of her life. Dread weighed heavy in her stomach while her heart beat in her throat.

Tap-tap-tap-tap. Hands and feet and heart. Just keep the same rhythm. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Keep it together, Vanessa. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

Before she knew it, her feet had led her up flight after flight of stairs and all that was left was to open the huge double doors in front of her to look at all of her work.

Blueprints and models were all that she could see behind her eyelids when she closed her eyes and took a deep steadying breath. The heavy clunk of tumblrs moving as people opened the doors was loud enough that she could feel it in her chest.

When she opened her eyes, Vanessa’s breath caught and the whole world disappeared. The machine took up the entire view and past her periphery. It was massive and daunting. Her heart pounded and she couldn’t hear the sounds of the shop around her over the roaring of her blood in her veins.

This. This was what they had been working on. _This._

This Jaeger was thousands of tons of metal in the shape of her thoughts and brought to life by the most brilliant team of people she had ever met, much less had the pleasure to work with. This! _This was it!_

She didn’t realize that she was walking until the railing of the walkway was pressed against her belly, stopping her from falling several stories. She didn’t realize that she was crying until Stacker’s large hands were wiping the tears from her cheeks. Didn’t hear the frantic whispers asking if she was all right until she gathered the strength to look away and see Hermann, Stacker, and Tamsin crowded around her. It could have been after just a few moments, but it was probably years. Time was irrelevant now.

In front of her was everything she was fighting for and behind her was all of the strength she could muster.

“We built this. We did it.” Her voice bubbled out of her past the lump in her throat.

The situation was too surreal. The magnitude of this accomplishment was too large for her to comprehend. It was like finding out how large the sun was in comparison to the Earth when you’ve always seen it in the sky as the same size as the moon. She knew it to be true in her head but not her heart. Not until now.

And everyone was there. Her family was there. Her team was there. Caitlin and her team were there. The Marshall was there. The first class of Ranger hopefuls were there. UN officials were there. Even Hermann’s stupid, asshole dad was there staring in awe at what they had built.

And she didn’t care as she laughed through her stupid, ridiculous tears. Why did people cry when they weren’t sad?

“I can’t believe… Oh god, do you remember when she was just a twinkle in my eye?”

That startled a laugh from the crowd. A crowd. A crowd of goddamn people were there to witness what felt like one of the most personal moments in her life. 

“And now she’s all grown up. My Yukon Brawler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, remember when I thought that this was only going to be 13 chapters? I forgot that I had to introduce a million characters and that Vanessa, Herman, and Newt spend the first couple years apart and doing their own thing in the beginning. I'll be posting side stories soon of stuff that I needed to cut because of flow or because it's in the wrong person's POV for the chapter I end up posting.
> 
> In case anyone is wondering, Allison will eventually be Tendo's Allison. She's an adorable latina lady that always gets what she wants. Tendo is going to have no chance against her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!TRIGGER WARNING!!
> 
> Bad stuff happens in this chapter. I tried to update the tags, but don't hesitate to tell me if they need to be updated again.

Anchorage, Alaska  
August and September, 2015

Newton,  
See attached for my revisions. Your application looks acceptable as is. I have no doubts that you will be able to secure admission into the Jaeger academy, though I am still surprised that you would endeavour to do so. While it would be necessary to work in PPDC laboratories, it is unnecessary in order to continue your line of work. Would it not be better to continue in the safety of 

_No. That won’t do._

Hermann jabbed at the backspace key. He had been working on the same email for two days. They had continued corresponding via email since their disastrous first meeting in Seoul. Neither of them were known for keeping a close eye on their messages, so there was no expectation to be punctual in their responses. More often than not, the length of wait between messages had a direct correlation to the length of the message received. 

Communication was… easy. There was none of the confrontational overtones or interruptions that they had during dinner. Just long messages with thoughtful answers and stimulating questions. It was so easy that it wasn’t long before their emails started to turn more personal and now their messages were hardly work related at all.

But now there was this. Newton’s last email included his half filled out application for the Jaeger academy. Now that the first Jaeger was completed and the first test run was scheduled, applications for joining the war effort – specifically in finding ways to eradicate the kaiju – were sent out to those with high potential. Newton was short listed for head of biology staff, but he would only be considered if he passed their new “academy” in order to obtain the necessary government clearances.

Half of him was jubilant at the thought of Newton joining the PPDC. They could work together – in the same building, not directly as co-workers – and perhaps have the same easy rapport they had via email. Perhaps there was something more between them. Maybe maybe maybe. What he wouldn’t give for a definitive answer… Then there was the other half of him that was horrified. Newton would be stationed at one of the shatterdomes – near the Pacific Ocean. Not away in the safety of the Atlantic coast. What if a kaiju attacked? And if not that, then what if Hermann had spent the last year searching for some secret meaning in Newton’s emails that was not there?

Then the hypothetical kaiju attack would not be so bad.

Was there an eloquent way to tell someone that you might be falling in love with them and that you want them to simultaneously be within arms-reach but also be thousands of miles away where it is safe without admitting that you were in love with them?

_Not likely._

He held down the backspace key until the email was blank once again. He glanced at the time in the corner of this laptop screen and sighed as he started typing again.

Two hours. That was the deadline he was going to give himself. He needed to be there for the Jaeger test in two hours. This email was going to go out before then.

\-----

“Ooh, this place is super fancy.” Vanessa walked into LOCCENT and immediately veered off course to look at the control panels lining the walls before Hermann could stop her. One of the door guards starts to move toward her, but Marshall Johnston cuts in.

“She’s clear, Jacobs. Is this your first time in LOCCENT, Dr. Clarke?” 

“LOCCENT?” Vanessa doesn’t bother to look away from the controls as she starts going through the menu screens available.

“Local Command Center.” He clarifies with a frown. Marshall Johnston was not the sharpest man, but he was catching on that Vanessa should not be accessing anything prior to testing the Jaeger, even if she did design it.

“Aww, that’s really fucking cute. I like how PeepDick is all about nicknames.” Apparently satisfied, she turned to the Marshall and adjusts her glasses, her knee length skirt twirling. “I’m looking for Dr. Lightcap.”

Hermann moved one of his hands to the small of her back, guiding her away from the control panels and toward where they were going to watch the Jaeger demonstration. “She’s in the front hooking up Captain Casey.”

“Awesome. Tschüss!” She waved the Marshall away and followed Hermann’s lead.

Vanessa had been jumpy and nervous up until the unveiling of the final build to the UN the week before. Between her nerves and the exhaustion of working non-stop for an entire year – on the same project, unheard of for her --, and the strain of the war; she had a breakdown and started crying. Now she was in her usual post-project haze where she wandered from point of interest to point of interest until she found a new engineering project to latch onto for a few months. As far as Vanessa was concerned, she had signed off on the Jaeger project.

He shared a look with Allison and she pulled Vanessa away to where Tim was already sitting. The three of them didn’t have an active role in the demonstration. Sunny and Krunal were already at their stations, double checking that all of the system readouts were where they should be. Hermann needed to be at one of the controls to monitor the code as it ran. This was going to be the first time that the pilot was going to be running all of the functions simultaneously from LOCCENT.

It shouldn’t be any different than any of the other tests they have run. Just two extra limbs for Captain Casey to control.

\-----

No no no nonononoNO.

None of this was supposed to happen. The programs were working. They worked before! But now, now it was all too much. All of the sensors tripped on Caitlin’s screens before his had flashed red. Before they could shut it down, the yelling had started. The room was in a panic.

_Bloody hell._

Hermann ran to where the pilot was sitting. The pons helmet was off of him, but he was convulsing. Everyone was panicking. Caitlin was on her knees crying, as Vanessa held her and alternated between trying to calm Caitlin down and screaming orders to the staff around her.

“Shh, Shhhh…I’ve got you.” They both looked so young and small. They looked like children playing a grown up game. Caitlin in her lab coat and Vanessa in her heels, surrounded by military uniforms.

“Oh god, he's dead.” Caitlin’s eyes were trained on Captain Casey’s face as one of the medics pulled his eyelids down to flash a light into them one at a time. His irises were ringed with blood.

“Caitlin, look at me. Right here, only me and you.” He fell to his knees next to them.

“I killed him.” This was like a terrible dream.

“No. Look at me. You have done nothing wrong.”

“The Pons… It overloaded.” _Overloaded? Or did his program crash? Which happened first?_

“Deep breath, Caitlin. Breathe with me. Tell me what happened.”

“He couldn't take the neural strain. It- he couldn't. It was too much.” Too much what? One of Vanessa’s hands found his wrist. She was trying to stay calm, but her hands were shaking.

“Too much? Loading? Like a fuse blowing?” The analogy was too perfect. Caitlin started wailing again and it took everything in him to stop his stomach from emptying. _His eyes._

“Okay, shhh. It's okay. We know now. We can fix this.”

“He's dead!”

“And no one else is going to die. Not if we have anything to say about it.” They were going to try again. Herman knew it. Military never gives up on the first try. Not when they’ve spent so much money on the project already.

“I can't... Vanessa, I can't. Oh god, Sergio is next in line! He can't- I don't know how-“

“Shh, it's okay.”

“IT’S NOT OKAY!” Caitlin tries to throw Vanessa off and scratches her face. “What if Sergio dies? What- what if his- his-his fuse blows?”

“It won't, Caitlin. We are going to fix this.” 

“How? HOW?!” 

“We reduce the load.” His voice feels foreign to him. Quiet. Young. Caitlin is looking at him with her big blue eyes rimmed in pink, and he thinks about Captain Casey’s eyes.

“How?”

“Shh, we can do this. We just need to think. Okay, umm…” Vanessa’s fingers are tapping on Caitlin’s shoulder as she tries to steady her breathing and think of a solution. “If we shorten the distance, the signal doesn't have to be as strong. We can move the pilot to inside the Jaeger. Would that help?”  
Caitlin is hiccupping with sobs.

“Hermann?” Vanessa finally turns to him and he can see that her usually bright eyes are pink as well. He doesn’t want to know how his own are faring.

“I'll include a fail safe that will shut the system down if it starts to overload. No one else has to die.” Caitlin blinks her eyes open and looks at them before she rubs the sleeve of her lab coat over her face.

“Physical movement… mimicking. That would reduce the mental workload. Can we build-?”

“Yes. We can.” Vanessa’s voice is thick now and she can’t hold back her tears anymore. “Right Hermann?”

They were just kids playing a grown up game.

But they were going to make the rules. _No one else has to die._

\-----

 

The next two weeks passed by both too slowly and too quickly. Vanessa had spent the entire time working in shifts with Tim in the machine shop, building a rig to allow mimicked movements to translate into the improved signaling program that Hermann, Sunny, and Krunal were working on. The final piece looked like a strange mix of workout equipment, but it seemed to suit their needs. Caitlin spent the time double checking designs with them and doing mental exercises with Lieutenant Sergio D'onofrio.

The second round of testing was as tense as the final moments of the first round. Caitlin was there with pink eyes, triple checking everything in the base before going to the Jaeger. She insisted that she would be inside of the Jaeger to monitor progress. There was very limited room inside, so Vanessa trained Caitlin to put together and take apart the modified pons equipment, as well as sending doubles of everything with her in case something needed to be swapped out.

“Does she really need all of this? Is there even going to be enough room for all of that in there?”

“Just take it! What if something breaks? You always need two of everything.” Vanessa tapped each of the components on the cart in some sort of order that made sense in her head before nodding to herself and letting the technician take the parts away to be loaded into the Jaeger.

“Normally I would remind you that you are insane, but it is reassuring that there are backups.” Vanessa’s habit of taking duplicates was usually pointless: two toothbrushes when travelling, two forks taken at the canteen during lunch, etc. But an extra cable might save the Lieutenant’s life this time.

“What time is it? I need to write down this moment for the record.” Her smirk was playful, but it didn’t mask the way she tapped her fingers nervously.

“Hush. I need to check the monitors again. Test starts in thirty minutes.”

\-----

They had agreed to start the test slow. The first test was done with too much confidence. Too many systems firing at the same time. They weren’t ready then.

This time they started with the arms. One arm through full articulation. Then the next. Both arms together. Now the legs. Bend both knees. Straighten. Balance one foot. Now the other.

Things were going well. Systems were still within acceptable range.

“We’re ready for the walking test when you are.”

“Roger that.”

Everyone in LOCCENT held their breath as Brawler Yukon took its first steps.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

They didn’t make it to four before the warning indicators started flashing.

“Lightcap, we are flashing yellow.”

“We’re slowing down.” Caitlin’s voice was already panicked.

“Lightcap, readouts aren’t diminishing.”

“I see that, Marshall.”

“Why isn’t the readout diminishing, Lightcap?”

“God damnit! Hold on-” Caitlin _never_ swore. What was going on in there?

And then all of the pons system screens flashed connection errors.

“Status report! Status report NOW Lightcap! You’ve gone dark!” Marshall Johnston was yelling. The man didn’t understand the readouts when he had them, but it was easy to tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

“Oh no, Hermann.” Vanessa pulled at his arm, distracting him from the readouts at his station. “Do the fail safes work if they’re disconnected from LOCCENT?” 

“Yes, they should be fine as long as the Jaeger doesn’t topple.”

“As long as the Marshall doesn’t panic and do a remote disconnect, the AI will keep them up.”

“He’s already panicking.” The Marshall was demanding answers from an unresponsive Caitlin and a room full of techs that had no information.

“Come on, Caitlin. You can do it.”

Nearly a minute passed with the Marshall screaming and everyone trying to figure out what to do before Caitlin’s voice came in. “We-we're fine.”

The entire room let out the breath they were holding.

“What’s happening? We lost all pons readouts!”

“I- we are- wow.”

“Status report.”

“I'm… drifting?” Caitlin’s voice was quiet and uncertain.

“Drifting? What does that mean? That a science term?”

“We are sharing the load.” She sounded stronger. More certain.

“What?”

 _Oh god._ “That’s not possible.” _How would that work? Did they even have the equipment for that? Were the codes robust enough for it?_

“What? What does that mean?” Vanessa was pulling at his arm again and he had to push her away so that he could check to make sure that the code was handling it. “Hermann, don’t leave me in the dark.”

“They are piloting together.”

\-----

“Okay, first off, how did you know that switching out LOCCENT for the second pons helmet was going to work? Because whaaaaaat?!” 

“Don’t listen to her. How are you two feeling?” Hermann directed his question to the Lieutenant since Vanessa was crowding Caitlin in the booth they were sitting at

“Surprisingly good, Dr. Gottlieb. Could use a drink though.” 

“How fortunate that we are at a bar.” He didn’t know the Lieutenant very well, but he was always polite the few times they had interacted.

“I am serious, Caitlin, I need you to tell me all the things.” Which was a welcome change to Vanessa’s company. She had been insufferable while they waited for them to get MRIs and be discharged from medical.

“She’s more intense in person than in the drift, isn’t she?” The Lieutenant was leaning forward, studying how Vanessa and Caitlin were interacting.

“Drift? Is that code for something? Tell me the cipher, Caitlin!”

“Please don’t. I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing her like this in an age.” 

“Don’t listen to Hermann, Caitlin. Listen to the voice in your heart. The one that’s saying ‘Tell Vanessa everything before she tries to gain this knowledge via decapitation, Highlander style.’ ”

“It’s what we’re calling it. The Drift. When I started the second pons system, it was… like our brains were having a conversation.” This description caused Vanessa to scrunch up her nose and look between Caitlin and the Lieutenant skeptically.

“I'm serious! Don’t make that face. I could see the first time I met Sergio and it was like I was living his memory of the event. The way that he thought about me was like that time I met you.”

“It’s true.” The lieutenant reached over and took Caitlin’s hand. “It was like I was there, at that party, hiding under the table eating tiny sandwiches. It reminded me of how my dad and I used to eat lunches in my tree house during the summer when I was a kid.”

“Surely you’re joking. The two of you met at Sandia.” Vanessa was doing consulting work at Sandia National Laboratory and Caitlin’s laboratory was in the same building.

“At the Officers’ Ball.” Caitlin clarified. “I was really nervous and I didn’t know anyone there, so I was sitting by myself at one of the tables.”

“And in comes Dr. Clarke, and she’s carrying a plate of finger sandwiches.”

“And she just pulls back the table cloth and gets under the table.”

Hermann’s eyes narrowed as Caitlin and the Lieutenant told the story. “You _did not_ hide under a table at a gala event.”

“Nooooo?” Her grimace gives her away.

“And it just went back and forth like that.”

“But you completed the test. How did you pilot?” _How did tiny Caitlin Lightcap pilot that giant machine?_

“It was like talking to someone while you're driving.”

“Wait, wait!” Vanessa had that ridiculous grin on her face as she leaned on the table. “So that whole time, you guys were literally walking down memory lane?” He should have known.

“I have to constantly remind myself that you are considered the leading mind in your field.” How is it possible that someone so intelligent can always be saying the most idiotic things?

“Everyone else has gotta step up their game, Hermann.” _Indeed._

“Please continue.”

“I only made it out because Caitlin is so smart. I think that her brain did all of the work.”

“I can't take all of the credit. Sergio is quite smart too. Did you know that he has a degree in political science? Graduated top in his class.”

“That is not fair, I never told you that. You saw it in the drift.”

“You two are so cute that it's physically painful for me. So, weird question, do you actually think that intelligence is a determining factor in pilot effectiveness?”

“Honestly, I'm not sure. Everything that I thought I knew about the pons has changed. We will have to run a study to determine what sort of neurological parameters matter, but intelligence might be a factor.”

Jaegers were powered using brain signals… wouldn’t it make the most sense to have the most intelligent people piloting? “So hypothetically, we could pilot?” _Would they make the best soliders?_

Caitlin took a moment to think about it as she took a sip from her water. “I don't see why not. That might actually not be a bad test. The two of you are the most intelligent people I know.”

“Aww, that's so sweet! I like your brain too.”

 _How often was it that the most intelligent person was sent to the front lines? They could be the best Ranger candidates._ “We should try it.”

“What, are you serious?” Vanessa stopped playing with the straw in her water and looked at him over her glasses.

“Why not?” Her stare became harder. “The pons problem has been fixed. What's the worst thing that could happen?”

“We could swap bodies and have to re-learn how to pee?”

“You cannot be serious.”

“I went through puberty like four times or something, I'm not even comfortable with what I have now. Honestly, I’m still dreading the day that my body decides it wants tits.”

“Aren't you curious whether you could make it as a Ranger?”

“Not really.” He knew that Vanessa never had aspirations to join the military, but how could she not be curious? How could she be constantly surrounded by soldiers and not wonder what it was like? 

Vanessa continued to frown at him as she tapped her fingers on the table. “Fine.” She crossed her arms like a petulant child and turned her head away. “I can see the appeal. As long as Caitlin thinks it's a good idea, I'll try this drift business with you. But I'm changing all of my passwords afterward.”

“CorrectHorseBatteryStaple not secure enough for you?”

“I stand corrected. I'm going to go change my passwords right now.”

 

\-----  
“We’ll start soft using the practice arm. We’re just going to raise the arm, clench – make a fist, count to five on the fingers, clench again, and lower the arm.”

Caitlin adjusted the pons helmet on his head and checked the OCV readouts.

“Are you guys nervous?”

“That is one word for it.” 

Vanessa was keeping silent and tapping her fingers on the armrest of the chair she was sitting in next to him.

“Don’t be. The two of you have known each other for years. I’m sure you have plenty of things to talk about.”

_Yes, plenty of things to talk about. They’ve never run out of things to say._

“Ready? We’re going live in 3.”

_Usually it was harder for them to stop talking._

“2”

_So this should be simple. Just a conversation with memories._

“1”

**“This card real meaningful, yeah?” Luna was going to kill her probably, but it would be worth it. Her tattoo artist adjusted squirted out a thimble of black ink next to an already full thimble of pink ink that he had assured her would darken to a red under her skin.**

**“Yeah. It means that I’m unexpected. The world can't count my cards and bet on my failures because I have more than meets the eye. I might have to live with the hand I’m dealt, but I can pad the deck.”**

**“You know, Ace is the lowest card.” The needle touches her skin and it both hurts more and less than everyone told her it would, causing her to tense her shoulders to try and stay still.**

**“And the highest one.” This gets an amused laugh from the artist as he pulls away to dip the vibrating needle into black ink again.**

**“What other tattoos you got?”**

**“This is the first.” First of many.**

_“I gotta ask, why the circle?”_

_“It is a zero, actually”_

_“That your favorite number?” The woman smeared a gel onto the inside of his wrist and the pressure hurt more than the procedure that warranted it. The whole process was surprisingly straight forward._

_“You could say that. It doesn't have value on its own, but tack it on the right of another number and it's ten times larger. You can multiply any number by it and it doesn't matter how big or small the other ones are, you've turned them into nothing. And it's always there. Showing up in maths to denote significance. Zero is an extraordinary number. Zero is… significant.”_

_“That’s a really nice first tattoo. You know what? It’s so small I won’t charge you.”_

_“It will be the only one, thank you.”_

“Are you two okay? Talk to me.” Caitlin’s voice was a quiet whisper. Muffled and far away.

**“Can I see that one?” The display case was completely full of some of the most ridiculous knives. Pawn shops were crazy. What kind of person gets a custom knife with their wedding dates engraved on the blade and then pawns it?**

**“That’s just a display. Not for sale.” The spindly man hands her the knife and take another long drag on his cigarette before ashing on the floor.**

**“Why not?” If it wasn’t for sale, it wouldn’t be here.**

**“Butterfly knives are illegal.” What a small, strange world.**

**“But it suits me so well.” It felt right. “I’m also an illegal butterfly.”**

_“How does the jacket feel?” The woman tugged at the collar and smoothed it flat before stepping back to look at him._

_“It’ll do.” It’s just a sport coat._

_“No no, it must be perfect!” She tutted as she motioned for him to take it off and try another. This one soft with age but well fit in his shoulders. When he moved to button the front, his posture straightened. It felt right._

_“Yes, much better. Clothes don’t make a man, but it helps him along. You look like you have important things to say.”_

_“I do.”_

“I… believe so?” This wasn’t so bad. Unfamiliar memories from Vanessa were interrupting his own. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the thoughts running in the back of his mind.

**“This worksheet is done in pairs. Only hand in one paper at the end of the hour.” Pairs? Why did they need to work in pairs?**

**“What is your name?” The boy next to her wasn’t even looking at her as he wrote his name at the top of his worksheet and hovered his pencil waiting for her name.**

**“My name’s A-ahh” No, not Anna. My name isn’t Anna anymore.**

**“Did you forget your name?” He was looking at her now as though she were slow.**

**“No. That would be weird.” Probably shouldn’t point that out.**

**“Very.” There was a beat of silence before he inclined his head toward the worksheet on his desk.  
Right. Names.**

_“My name is Vanessa.” She put her palms out, with overlapping thumbs, and wiggled her fingers. “It means Butterfly.”_

_The new girl is weird. Is that an American thing?_

_“That’s a nice name.”_

_“Thank you. What’s your name?”_

_“Hermann.” He tapped his pencil on the first line of his sheet so she could see before writing her name underneath._

**“Really?” He has terrible handwriting, but the letters are clear. H-e-r-m-a-n-n.**

**“Is there something wrong?” He’s frowning and there’s something about that which makes her think of an old man stuck in a child’s body.**

**“You have two n’s in your name.”**

**“That’s how it’s spelled.” Did she say something wrong? He looks so angry now.**

**“Hermann. I like it. It’s like you weren’t ready for your name to end so you kept going.” You couldn’t put an extra a at the end of her name. She would sound scared. Annaaaaaaa. Vanessaaaaaa. An extra n on Herman would be like holding something in your teeth. Hermannnnn. It sounded defiant in her head.**

**But you can’t tell strangers that kind of thing, so she was going to ignore the look on his face that she didn’t understand and do the math worksheet they were assigned.**

_Nobody likes his name. He didn’t even like his name. Not the way it sounded or the way it was written or his failure to his family. The Soldier that he’ll never be in anything other than name._

_“It’s been forever since I’ve done conics.” She was looking at the worksheet in front of her and she jabbed the end of her mechanical pencil on the table they were sharing. Two points drawn with a curved line joining them on a pre-printed Cartesian coordinate axis._

_“Do you wanna race?”_

_“It’s hardly racing if you’ve already started.”_

_“Can’t win if you don’t start.”_

“How…?” He could feel Vanessa’s mind like a presence hovering next to him, just outside of his peripheral.

“You need to pull out.” Caitlin sounded closer this time. “Don’t think about the memories.” How? How do you stop? It was like trying not to eavesdrop on a loud conversation in a quiet restaurant.

**“How was school today, Anna?”**

**“S’aight Off-cer Joe-Sue” I like it when the bus is late going home because Officer Josue is really nice.**

**“Just aight? What’d you do in class?” I like going to school because they say I’m real clever.**

**“We got a quiz today.” And they say I’m real smart.**

**“Yeah? How’d you do?” And Miss Aubrey says that smart girls can take care of themselves.**

**“I got an A.” Smart girls can do anything.**

**“Of course you did. Do you know why?” Smart girls are respected.**

**“’Cuz I’m Anna and I get As” Smart girls can take over the world.**

**“That’s right. Gimmie a high-five, up top!” Smart girls can figure out how to leave the south side and never come back.**

_“Look at all of these top marks! I’m very proud of you Hermann.” Mama is always so happy when I do well in my courses._

_“I didn’t do perfect.” But Papa isn’t going to like my sports scores._

_“No one is perfect, Hermann.” Mama understands, but Papa doesn’t._

_“I got recommended for advanced sports, Mama.” Dietrich is Papa’s favorite._

_“But you must do better in your courses, Dietrich.” But I am Mama’s favorite._

_“Papa says that maths don’t matter. We can just buy a calculator.” Mama understands._

“How can…?” Vanessa voices his question, but can’t finish it. She’s crying. He can feel her crying. Like rain outside his window, he can feel it in his bones.

**“Where you going?” There’s something about his voice that makes her chest feel empty.**

**“To school. It’s Wednesday.” The tourniquet is on his arm, but did he already use the needle?**

**“I’m not paying you to think.” Before or after? What difference does it make anymore what her foster father did?**

**“You’re not paying me at all.” The defiance wasn’t worth the hit to her eye. His ring cutting something it shouldn’t. This was worse than all of the other times.**

**“Look’it what you made me do. You’re only worth what I’ll get for that pretty little face of yours, and LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO.”**

_“It’s asthma, not cancer, Lars.” He shouldn’t be eavesdropping._

_“He’ll never be anything if he can’t compete.” But Mama said everything was going to be okay._

_“Hermann is just a boy, he doesn’t need to compete!” But nothing was ever okay with Papa._

_“And he’ll never be a man if he can’t breathe.”_

_“And what are we supposed to do about that?! He’s your son!”_

_“I have another son, I don’t need to waste my time with him.”_

Or was he crying?

**“When it’s your turn, Nene, you gotta remember that ain’t no man got a dick that make punches stop hurting.” Carla always gave her advice right before she left for the night. “Now I gotta go work.” It’s alright. “Stay here and get your beauty rest, okay?” But I don’t want to need her advice.**

**Because I’m gonna leave.**

**Carla stood in the doorway in her short skirt and checked to make sure that she had enough condoms in her bag.**

**“It’s never gonna be my turn because I’m too clever for that.”**

**“Don’t matter how clever you are if you don’t run fast enough.”**

_“When I’m gone, you need to remember to stay strong.” Don’t say that, you’re going to be okay._

_“I’m not strong.” Mama’s hands are so cold now as she wipes hot tears from my face._

_“Not like Papa wants, Liebling.” She’s crying too. “The kind of strong you want to be.”_

_I want to be the kind of strong that Mama is. Quiet and clever._

_“Promise… me, Hermann.” She’s having a hard time breathing now, but her grip is strong on his shoulder._

_“I promise, Mama.” He’s holding the ‘call nurse’ button down, but they don’t get to her hospital room fast enough._

Caitlin’s voice was a distant buzz. More of an uncomfortable feeling than a sound. Was he forgetting something?  
¬  
 **“He’s been lookin’ for you. Run before he gets here.”**

_“You’re a Gottlieb, and we are soldiers! Get up and run.”_

**“I’m not ready! It’s too soon!”**

_“It’s too much! I can’t breathe!”_

**“Run, or you’ll never leave!”**

_“Run, or you’ll never be a man!”_

**“RUN”**

_”RUN”_

**_“RUN”_ **

\-----

“So, good news, the two of you did not overload.” Caitlin enlarged the image of their brain signals on the monitor so they could both see and then started playing back the recording.

They were keeping themselves together somehow. Both seated on rolling office chairs. He wasn’t sure how they got from the chairs in the pons room to where they were now. He just knew that it was important that they stay together. They needed to stay close. Everything was too overwhelming when they were apart.

“Everything looked really good, synced brain signals and everything.” Orange and yellow spots danced over the two brain scans, side by side. The spots evolving in unison. “Until about… here. Then this section here started to go bright and the two of you went unresponsive.” One section went white and the other sections started to dim. “No long term damage, just high activity. What happened?”

What had happened? Those were memories that he had put out of his mind years ago. And Vanessa’s memories?

“I’m sorry, but I need to know.” Caitlin’s voice was soft and gentle. She must know that the memories they saw were not pleasant. Not like the experience she had described. 

“This section of the brain is generally associated with explicit memory – autobiographical information, so I know that something happened in the drift. And then here.” She pointed to a spot that started to flare up. “This area is usually associated with implicit memory – muscle memory. It doesn’t show activity until the end. But there wasn’t any movement in the arm.”

“We…” Vanessa’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. He could feel her shaking. “We were running.”

“Running.” Caitlin looked between them in disbelief. 

“In the drift.”

“IN the drift?” She looked back at the screen. “Okay, well, good thing that we were using the arm then.” 

She sat down and restarted the video. They watched their brains dance and flare up again while Caitlin twirled ponytail around her finger. 

“I need to ask.” Caitlin took a steadying breath and looked at them. What she saw must not have been very good because she looked down at her lab notebook before continuing. “Do we try again?”

Vanessa was still shaking next to him. His own hands were not steady.

Could they go through that again? What other memories did they have to share?

He spoke for the both of them when he said “No. Never again.”

\-----

“You don’t have asthma.” 

They were laying in Hermann’s room, waiting for exhaustion to overtake their nerves. Caitlin had sent them home and insisted that they take a full day off. Now they only had each other for company as they tried to ignore the elephant in the room.

“Not anymore.” He had childhood asthma. It had faded away after he had been at boarding school for a couple years. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll kill him. Just say the word and he’s dead.” _Everything is fine now._

“No, Vanessa.” _Things were better now._

“There isn’t a prison that could hold me.” _He had a family, even if it wasn’t the one he started with._

“I know.”

\-----

The next day was better. It was easier to be apart. Not enough to be able to leave the warehouse that Vanessa insisted they live in, but enough that he could work in his office while Vanessa worked on her car in the garage area.

Not that he could focus on the breach model he was working on.

Instead he was staring at his computer and trying to find the right words to say.

\-----

To: Dr. Hermann Gottlieb  
From: Newt Geiszler  
Subject: Fwd: PPDC Application Approved  
Time: 22:17 Anchorage

DUDE!!! SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS!!

Dr. Newton Geiszler  
Scientist Extraordinaire  
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

>To: Newt Geiszler  
>From: PPDC [DO NOT REPLY]  
>Subject: PPDC Application Approved  
>Time: 10:32 Anchorage  
>  
>Dear Dr. Newton Geiszler,  
>It is our pleasure to inform you that your application for the PPDC  
> Jaeger Academy has been approved. Please see the attached  
>PDF for further information regarding your appointment. We  
>look forward to seeing you in Anchorage at the start of the  
>month.  
>  
>Regards,  
>Marshall Richard Johnston  
>PPDC Anchorage  
>  
>  
>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp. Hopefully this starts to explain why Hermann is super against Newt drifting in the movie. Vanessa and Hermann are drift compatible, but they both chased the rabbit real bad. More explanation on what being drift compatible means in later chapters.
> 
> Are you excited about Hermann/Newt times in the next chapter? Because I am super excited about the science dorks being in the same zip code.
> 
> Tschüss is a super common way to say goodbye in Germany (and some other countries like Austria and Switzerland, apparently.) It's pronounced kind of like a cross between saying "choose" and "juice".
> 
> CorrectHorseBatteryStaple is an XKCD reference: http://xkcd.com/936/


End file.
